Last evening, Marleen, my wife, and I went to Denver’s Civic Center Park to watch fireworks and listen to a performance of the Colorado Symphony.  One of the few perks of being a Colorado legislator is being able to park on the narrow street that circles the state Capitol.  Which, of course, stands on the east side of Civic Center, opposite the Denver City and County building at the far west side.  This being so, Marleen and I decided to park in my spot on the circle drive and watch the show from the steps of the Capitol.

However, when we pulled into our parking place and looked up, we saw people sitting on the second floor balcony of the Capitol, which looks to the west, directly over Civic Center.  One of them was a friend, Wes Skiles, a policy analyst for the House Minority office.  He waved at us and invited us to join him, his family, and some other legislative staffers on the balcony.

The scene from the balcony was spectacular.  Framed by trees in full summer finery, we looked down the Capitol’s west steps, over the Veteran’s obelisk between Lincoln and Broadway, to the crowd gathering in front of the City and County Building, and finally to the sun setting behind the Continental Divide.  It was impossible not to think of “purple mountains’ majesty.”

The music, although punctuated by the occasional roar of a Harley Davidson, was fittingly patriotic.  The fireworks, which soared to life on the heels of the final blasts of the 1812 Overture, were an all-American, crowd pleasing extravaganza.

At home after the show, my thoughts drifted back to an encounter I had earlier in the day at woman’s door step, a house in a nice neighborhood in my district.  Somewhat bitterly, she told me of her Marine Corps son who was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome after two tours of duty in Iraq.  When I asked her how the VA was doing in assisting her son, she said it was so bad he wouldn’t go back.  When I offered to see what I could do to help, she waved me off.  Further, he didn’t want to go back because he was trying to rejoin the Marines and to admit he had a problem would make it that much more difficult.   She concluded by telling me that if the Marines wouldn’t have him, he was going to try to join the Army.

A stark study in contrasts, which is the better picture of our America, this July 4, 2010?  Both pictures are undeniably real-I saw them with my own eyes.  But are they both true?  Was the scene at Civic Center a mere froth, floating on an unlovely reality of war weariness and economic angst that I hear so much of as I march from door to door?

For me, the answer is not “either/or”, but “both/and.”  Yes, our nation is in the throes of a grinding crisis.  We are mired in a war against implacable Islamic terrorists who wish us grievous harm.   At home, we are led by a President who, apparently, has more faith in an omnipotent government than in the resourcefulness and ingenuity of a free and brave people.  But we have emerged victorious from far worse before.  After all, the Civic Center fireworks were set off to celebrate those who pledged their “lives, fortune, and sacred honor”-and who then backed it up by winning a savage war against long odds-to make the evening possible.