I could see America from our front porch. That is literally true. I grew up in a house on River Road in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. Foreign — but not very.
The body of water was the Niagara River below the falls, down a deep narrow gorge. My mother bought her groceries and filled her gas tank each week in Niagara Falls, N.Y, just a few minutes’ drive over the bridge. A man in a uniform, stationed by the bridge, would ask, “Where do you live? Where were you born?” and that was all it took. We bought almost all of our clothes on the other side and wore them, that is, smuggled them, back across. In my early teens my girlfriends and I walked over the bridge to see movies on the New York side. We could do almost anything in America except live there.
All of our television came from Buffalo. Canada didn’t even have television until 1952. Our music, our magazines, our culture was all American. It was Abraham Lincoln’s picture on the cover of some schools’ history textbooks. The first song I remember singing was God Bless America, the Kate Smith version. In those years after World War II, Americans pridefully waved their flags in their front yards. Canada didn’t have a flag of ts own until 1965. I am not disparaging my native land. Canada, in my mind, is hurtling past the U.S. in many ways, especially attitude.
By the time this country celebrated its 200th birthday, I was a proud American citizen, happily living in West Tisbury, with an American baby in my belly. I still don’t want to live anywhere except here. It is a kind of identity politics, I suppose. “…allowing people to choose the identity they desire even in the face of the identity they were told they ought to have,” writes Adam Gopnik in this week’s New Yorker.
But these days I wince. I am unwilling to celebrate the state of the union. I am too ashamed of those who are determining the course of the federal government. They do not represent me. Maybe I will eat a hot dog in retrospective honor of the 4th. I will listen to the nearby fireworks in the night, and sally forth the next morning, ever hopeful.
Jon Previant and Sundy Smith were hosts at their home on Seth’s Pond last week for two Iowa grandchildren visiting from Iowa. Owen Smith teaches junior high in the Iowa City public schools. His sister Zoe has recently completed her second year at the University of Iowa, and works on the campaign staff for Rob Sand, who is the Democrats’ candidate for governor of the state.
Congratulations to Cindy Mitchell, our long-time select board member as well as founder and head of Island Health Care. Cindy was recently honored by the Massachusetts League of Community Health Centers and presented with the agency’s 2026 Outstanding CEO award.
Lori Osmundson visited this past week from her home in Seattle, to join the celebration of her mother Anne’s birthday, at the home of Lori’s brother Jim and Richard Knabel. From here, Lori continued her travels eastward to Norway, a kind of second home.