The Real Manifest Destiny

When I was taking night classes at the community college and absolutely hating every single one of my political science professors (all lousy liberals) AND their bigoted grading curve, I'd come home every other night just exhausted and dejected. After a full day of work and then three hours of liberal politics, I was exhausted from work but mostly from arguing my viewpoints with my professors and fellow classmates. Nobody liked me in my classes, and that's not a big deal or anything, but it is disheartening to stand alone. I'm not saying I was right (although I felt I was) in what I said, but I thought it was crucial that the other students knew there was an alternative to the things (lies) my professors spouted in every class.

Well one night I came home especially weary and just about ready to give up. I felt like stupid John Adams during the second Continental Congress when nobody wanted to listen to his high-pitched whiny voice anymore because he opposed practically everything they addressed. I had just about made up my mind to shut my mouth for the rest of the semester and just let my teachers say what they felt like saying without fear of disagreement. I was just tired of it all.

That night I walked into my parents' bedroom where my dad was watching one of Ken Burns' amazing videos on the Civil War (titled The Civil War, I believe). My dad was on the bed, watching the TV and my mom was sitting in her rocking chair, reading. She put her book down when I came in and we exchanged a few words, probably me letting her know I was home and all that and her asking about my class that night. Well I wasn't about to confess that I was mentally defeated by my idiot teachers, so I just shrugged and tried to brush off the question when I caught a few of the words being read on the TV. I turned to listen and to my amazement (and my parents', who know how rarely I tear up) I started crying. This is what I heard on the TV:

"Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure--and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing--perfectly willing--to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt."

I have no idea how widely publicized the Sullivan Ballou letter is, but when I heard Ken Burns' narrator reading a passage from his letter to his wife, Sarah, I felt the reaffirmation I needed. In the clearest, most elegant language I have ever enjoyed, Major Ballou (a !!*lawyer*!! and public servant all his adult life) expressed his complete faith in the United States and his willingness to fight to the death to preserve its sacred mission. He understood that God's hand was in the War, and that those who struggled so willingly to create this nation during the Revolution deserved the justice of having that nation preserved at the hands of its descendants. This is exactly, one-hundred percent how I feel about America. I know this country is and always was given by God to those who would honor it and, to the best of their understanding and ability, keep it honorable.

Perhaps because of how dejected I was feeling that night and how ready to give up on everything with school and politics and my stupid, idiotic professors, I was more open to feel the words in Ballou's letter, and it has resonated with me ever since. Reading it again today I found myself still able to cry over his perfect, powerful testimony of patriotism. Sullivan Ballou understood what was expected of an American.

And I will never forget.