TUPAVIEW: FOURTH OF JULY
By Mike Tupa
July 4, 2025
BARTLESVILLE AREA SPORTS REPORT
The United States of America.
I tremble to your greatness, your ambitious goal of freedom to all citizens— the freedom to think what you want to think, the freedom to do what you want to do within the boundaries of a broad expanse of objective and fairly applied laws, the freedom to stand tall among others, the freedom to sup at the seat of the table of human rights, the freedom to bow to the God of our choice.
Above all these — and at the same time incorporating them all — is the freedom to dream and make your worthy dreams come true.
America — where the castes of the oppressive traditions of the past are swept away in the belief everyone is just as important. The poor person going to night school or to work two jobs to better themselves and build their own share of prosperity is just as respected as the heirs of great wealth. America — where a humble reporter of a small weekly newspaper can shake the hands of the president of the United States.
I know — because I did it.
America — where a 31-year-old minimum-wage security guard living quietly in a small apartment can make his dream to be a reporter and to be read and appreciated by tens of thousands of people and see it come to pass.
I know — because I lived it.
America — where a kind, gentle hard-working single woman, a two-time cancer survivor, not greatly blessed with the comforts and security of this world, can write a play and have it presented before live audiences.
I know — because my sister did it.
That is America.
There is no deadline to make dreams come true, no credentials required other than hard work, belief in oneself and God and others.
America — where a girl whose passion for sports and for capturing them in golden frozen moments for others to enjoy in yellowing scrapbooks as if they took place just yesterday.
I know — because Becky Burch did it.
America.
Its ideals have been betrayed at times by flaws and by the imperfections of those in custodianship of its leadership or who have used their advantages to prey on others or who have ducked away, at least temporarily, from the reach of God’s and man’s laws.
But the ideals themselves have remained perfect — universal freedom for all citizens and a shining light to brighten the hearts of those in other lands to seek more human rights and a break from the iron grasp of dictators and royal overreach and the tortuous quagmire of philosophies that promote the absolute dictatorship of the state over the inherent rights of its citizens for life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.
Our Founding Fathers tried a daring experiment — to let the people govern themselves through the ballot box and their participation in government. To choose their own candidates, to promote their ideas through open and unfettered discourse, to unite peacefully behind the democratic process and those elected, but yet to never stop trying to make an impact to try to repair her shortcomings, to try to boost her righteous strengths, to encourage greater morality, a renewed commitment to life for all innocent human beings, and ethics and love for each other and the ennobling nature of our genetic legacy and probity and self-motivation among all citizens.
America.
The land where people can make their dreams come true.
My dad never went beyond the second or third grade — but he rose to be a powerful executive in one of the biggest trucking operations in Texas.
My great-grandpa was less than two years old when his father died. He grew up as a boy in poverty, helping his mother and brothers survive by selling apples for a nickel apiece at the nearby train station. He left home at age 12 to make his own way in the world. He rose to become a city councilman of Ogden, Utah for 12 years, to serve as a church bishop for 20 years and to be a leading force in building a church that nearly 100 years later still stands as a regular meeting house and as a crown jewel of architecture in Ogden. After he died, the funeral home had to hold viewings on two separate evenings and the newspaper reported a line of people stretched around the block ready to see him.
America.
I think of Ronald Reagan, the son of a nomadic father struggling with alcohol issues. Yet Reagan became a great radio broadcaster, actor and an outstanding president.
I think of Jackie Robinson, born into a family of sharecroppers and raised by a mother that worked multiple jobs to support her family. Yet, because there are no “Closed” signs on the America highway of dreams, Jackie utilized his talents and his drive to become of the nation’s most highly-respected citizens and revered athletes and a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame.
I think of George Foreman, who in his late 30’s struggled to fulfill his self-ordained — and spiritually-motivated — mission to build facilities and programs to help troubled youth. Because this was America, he decided to go back to prize fighting and completed an incredible odyssey that eventually carried him to the world heavyweight championship and great wealth and positive impact on others — and one of the greatest smiles any human has ever been blessed with.
I think of my mom, denied many of the comforts of life. Abandoned both physically and financially by her husband and having to find a way to support two growing children. This highly-intelligent, never very healthy warrior took a job as a cleaning lady — at $1.50 an hour — in a 12-story bank-business building in downtown Ogden in order to support the family. For many years she eschewed any government welfare and reluctantly accepted very limited help from the church. She valued the freedom to choose her own path and to raise her children the way she believed best above almost anything else. There were times when the only food in the house was popcorn or when the gas was turned off. But we made it through. She lived to see both her daughter and her son complete college educations and establish themselves as good citizens and reliable, successful workers. She lived long enough to see me become a reporter — pretty much against a flood of odds — and to make my mark. She died with a smile on her lips 35 years ago this July, willingly accepting the verdict of terminal cancer. She was only 55 years old.
America.
No guarantee of success — but a guarantee to dream.
No guarantee of an easy road — but a guarantee to find a way to pursue one’s dream to the utmost of their ability and energy.
No guarantee of wealth — but a guarantee of opportunity.
America.
The resourcefulness of George Washington, the wisdom of Benjamin Franklin, the discernment of Thomas Jefferson, the humanity and faith of Abraham Lincoln, the unyielding determination of Alexander Graham Bell and Thomas Edison, the tenacious persistence of Booker T. Washington, the poetry of human power generated by Babe Ruth, the judicial deliberation by Sandra Day O’Connor, the lyrical soul-stiffing creations of Oscar Hammerstein II, the belting voice of Ethel Merman, the rugged graceful power of Jim Brown on a football field, the graceful humanity of Roberto Clemente, the joyful musical strains delivered by Louie Armstrong, the brooding acting of Marlon Brando, the gentle strength brought to life on the screen by Jimmy Stewart, the zany comedy of Muppets’ creator Jim Henson and the sweet kitchen offerings of Julia Child.
What about the girth and heart of America?
— A mom (or dad) reading a bedtime story to a child.
— A dad (or mom) playing catch in the front yard, or on the street in front of the house with a son or daughter.
— Going to the church of one’s choice without fear of persecution.
— A volunteer youth coach.
— Little Leaguers’ tears after they strike out or unbridled joy after they get their first hit.
— The bursting pride of parents and grandparents on graduation day.
— A family vacation drive across the rugged barren beauty of Wyoming.
— Decorating the first live Christmas tree.
— A family picnic on a blanket spread out on a park lawn.
— A parent clutching a child frightened by the lightning and thunder.
— Homemade popsicles.
— Standing in respectful attention in a pre-game rendition of the “Star-Spangled Banner.”
— A football player reaching down to pull up an opponent off the ground.
— A home run trot.
— A handshake.
— Political differences in person or in the media
— Shooting the basketball at a warped rim on an empty schoolyard or the driveway.
— Full church parking lots on Sundays.
— Changing career goals a dozen times before one turns 30.
— A July Fourth fireworks show.
— Standing up for what one believes is right regardless of the consequences.
Our gratitude for America doesn’t stem from its perfection, We embrace its ideals the same way as we embrace a loved one — not because they are perfect but because we love them and the good in them and want to help them be better.
We embrace what America stands for because it is good and because — if applied fully — would lead to universal brotherhood, individual and collective happiness, shared prosperity, the opportunity to pursue excellence, the opportunity to find our voice and add to the human chorus of potential for a world of true peace.
God Bless America.
