Happy burfday, U.S.A.
A semiquintessential guide to America's anniversary parties
Happy semiquinceanera, America! Wait, that’s not right. Happy semisusquehanna! OK, that’s not it either. Happy semiquintessential? I give up.
Happy 250th birthday, America!
OK, I looked it up. We are celebrating the country’s semiquincentennial.
“Centennial” means 100 years.
“Quin” means five.
“Semi’ means half.
Multiply 100 by 5, then divide that by two.
I’d hate to be so old that you have to use algebra to figure out my age.
Wikipedia says we could have chosen another term for our 250th birthday, such as “sestercentennial,” “bisesquicentennial” or “quarter-millennial.”
That last one is easy to say, but it also sounds like you’re threatening to torture a 30-year-old.
For America’s 100th birthday, the country threw its first world’s fair in Philadelphia. It lasted for six months and drew nearly 10 million visitors, according to history.com.
The nation needed a big party in 1876. An economic depression had caused massive unemployment and wage cuts. Women were protesting because they did not have the right to vote. The Ku Klux Klan was terrorizing Black citizens in the South. Custer had just lost the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
The Centennial Exposition included some 30,000 exhibits, including a 50-foot-tall steam engine and Alexander Graham Bell’s first telephone, as well as early typewriters, soda water and — most significantly — ice cream.
For America’s 150th birthday in 1926, Philadelphia hosted another world’s fair, but this one was a disaster. The Sesqui-Centennial International Exposition was plagued by accusations of political corruption and election fraud, according to Smithsonian magazine. The event lost millions of dollars and almost bankrupted the city. Variety called it “America’s greatest flop.”
When it opened in May, the fair buildings were only half-finished. By July 4, though, things were up and running. Highlights of the “Sesqui” included a boxing match between Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney, and an 80-foot-tall replica of the Liberty Bell that lit up at night.
The nation’s 200th birthday celebration, in 1976, went off much better. For one thing, I was alive for this one. My 13-year-old self carried a flag in a swelteringly hot parade, and helped paint the town fire hydrants red, white and blue. I also got to visit the American Freedom Train.
The highlight of the nation’s Bicentennial celebration was a 26-car train pulled by restored steam engines. It stopped in all 48 contiguous states, on a tour that lasted 21 months.
Twelve cars displayed 500 American artifacts, including George Washington’s copy of the Constitution, Judy Garland’s dress from “The Wizard of Oz,” Wilt Chamberlain’s basketball shoes, Martin Luther King’s pulpit, replicas of Jesse Owens’ Olympic gold medals, a moon rock, a huge replica of the Liberty Bell and one of NASA’s test models for the Apollo lunar rover.
For this year’s 250th birthday celebration, there is another traveling exhibit, but it’s not a train. It’s Freedom Trucks. (’Murica!)
Six semi-trailers have been lined with wall panels on American history. Interactive exhibits let you add your digital signature to the Declaration of Independence, or listen to a speech from an AI-generated George Washington. (A spokesperson for Freedom Trucks told The Atlantic magazine that Washington’s words are “not intended to serve as verbatim quotations.”)
Heaven knows what’s in store for America’s Tricentennial.
so in 1976, my mother was redoing our carpets by dumpster diving at carpet stores. She would collect scraps in her color theme, cut them into 3' by 3' designs, and then glue them on top of the old carpet... I think she read about it in a magazine. Struck by the spirit of the bicentennial, she began to collect red white and blue scraps. she did one of the upstairs bedrooms in a bicentennial theme and Voila! she got her picture in the paper! you cant get more patriotic than that!