The Army veteran seemed embarrassed and apologized," I'm sorry to break up the party."   My mother responded with tears in her eyes, looking at the veterans of two wars   "If it weren't for you we wouldn't be able to have this party." And then the Ranger led us all back to the fireworks.

I learned a great lesson that night in downtown Manhattan. As much as we love a parade, or a barbecue, or a fireworks display or even a great political speech, July Fourth is the emotional sum of our struggles, strife and our exceptionalism as a people. Like no other people in the world we celebrate our right to speak, to assemble, to worship, to think -freely and without fear or favor. And we do it with pride understanding the price so many have paid for the privilege.

So tonight as our children marvel at  the rockets' red glare let's make sure we surround the  modest young  men or women-our quiet wounded warriors of Iraq and Afghanistan  who limp in to the shadows and let them know how grateful we are for their sacrifice and their courage.