4. July 2026

The Declaration of Independence at 250: A Quiet Thank-You From Central Louisiana

What does freedom really feel like?

For me, it doesn’t always feel big and dramatic. It feels close. Familiar. Like the sound of people laughing under a pavilion, the smell of something good on the grill, and the sight of flags waving in the July heat while families gather across Cenla.

This time of year always gets me in my feelings a little—probably more than I mean to admit.

I love this country.

Not in some loud, chest-thumping way. Just in the simple, steady way you love something that has given you room to work, grow, stumble, get back up, and keep going.

And I love Louisiana for the same reason.

There’s just something about this state. The heat, the trees, the back roads, the way people show up for each other, the way even an ordinary weekend can turn into a memory if the right people are standing around talking long enough.

Then there’s this part of Louisiana—our part.

Alexandria and Pineville, of course. But also Ball and Tioga. Woodworth and Lecompte. Forest Hill, Boyce, and Deville. Dry Prong and Pollock. Cheneyville and Glenmora. And then out toward Natchitoches and Marksville, where folks know how to celebrate with that same mix of pride, warmth, and easygoing joy.

That’s the map in my heart when I think about Independence Day weekend.

The Clumsy Kid Version of Freedom

I was not one of those kids who looked naturally gifted with tools in his hands.

I was more of a “how did he manage to mess that up so fast?” kind of kid.

Bent nails.

Crooked lines.

Wood glue where wood glue absolutely did not belong.

If there was a graceful way to build something, I usually found the opposite.

I still remember one summer afternoon trying to make something out of scrap wood and pure optimism. It was hot enough to make the air wobble. I was sweating, fumbling, dropping things, and acting like the wood had personally wronged me.

By the end of it, the project looked rough, my pride looked rougher, and I probably had glue on at least one finger for the rest of the day.

At the time, it felt like failure.

Now it feels like a gift.

Because learning to make things taught me something bigger than making things.

It taught me patience.

It taught me humility.

It taught me that freedom is not just about doing whatever you want. Sometimes it’s about having the chance to try, mess up, learn, and try again.

And I’m grateful for that chance.

Why This Weekend Means So Much Around Here

The older I get, the more I appreciate how Independence Day feels in a place like this.

It’s not just a date on the calendar.

It’s families making plans.

It’s lawn chairs getting loaded into trucks.

It’s church groups, neighbors, grandparents, kids, cousins, and friends all finding their way to the same places at the same time.

And we’ve got some good places to be this weekend.

Rock the Red in Alexandria always brings that riverfront energy that feels equal parts hometown and celebration.

Fireworks Over Buhlow in Pineville has its own kind of magic too—that moment when everybody goes quiet for half a second before the sky lights up and all the little kids lose their minds in the best way.

Then there’s the Avoyelles Arts & Music Festival in Marksville, which just feels like a good Louisiana time waiting to happen.

And over in Natchitoches, their celebration has that familiar charm that makes you want to slow down and stay awhile.

I love that these celebrations are close enough to feel personal.

They’re not just events.

They’re places where memories get made.

Louisiana Pride, the Simple Kind

I think one of the reasons I love this weekend so much is because it reminds me how lucky I am to live here.

Louisiana has a soul to it.

Not perfect—Lord knows we all could tell a few stories there—but real.

Generous.

Funny.

Tough.

Tender in ways people don’t always notice at first.

You see it when neighbors help each other after a storm.

You see it when somebody you barely know starts talking to you like an old friend in line somewhere.

You see it when a whole town shows up for a game, a fundraiser, a church event, or a family in need.

That kind of spirit runs straight through Alexandria and Pineville, but it doesn’t stop there. You feel it in Boyce. In Ball. In Tioga. In Woodworth. In Lecompte and Forest Hill. In the quieter roads around Deville, Dry Prong, Pollock, Cheneyville, and Glenmora.

It’s a shared kind of heart.

And I’m thankful for it.

Grateful for Freedom, Grateful for Home

When I think about the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, I don’t feel pulled toward making some grand speech.

Mostly, I just feel thankful.

Thankful for the freedom to build a life with my own two hands.

Thankful for the freedom to create.

Thankful for the freedom to worship, gather, speak, work, rest, and dream.

Thankful for the people before us who carried burdens I can barely imagine so that ordinary folks like me could live ordinary, meaningful lives.

And maybe that’s what hits me the hardest—that ordinary part.

Because ordinary life is not small.

It’s a porch light left on.

A family meal.

A safe drive home.

A town celebration.

A child running around with a sparkler.

A neighbor waving from across the yard.

Those things may not sound dramatic, but they are the stuff of a good life. And a good life is nothing to take for granted.

This Weekend, I Hope We Slow Down Enough to Notice

I hope we notice the little things.

The sound of fireworks bouncing across the Red River.

The way kids in matching flag shirts run themselves completely out of energy.

The folding chairs and coolers and paper plates.

The cousins coming in from out of town.

The laughter.

The music.

The gratitude.

I hope folks in Alexandria and Pineville enjoy every bit of it. I hope Ball and Tioga do too. I hope families in Woodworth and Lecompte, in Forest Hill and Boyce, in Deville, Dry Prong, Pollock, Cheneyville, and Glenmora all get a little time together this weekend that turns into the kind of memory you don’t know you’re making until years later.

And I hope the same for everybody heading to Marksville or Natchitoches to celebrate.

A Grateful Fourth

I don’t have anything fancy to add to it.

I’m just grateful.

Grateful for this country.

Grateful for Louisiana.

Grateful for Central Louisiana.

Grateful for the chance to live, work, and make a life here among good people.

So wherever you’re celebrating this weekend—at Rock the Red in Alexandria, Fireworks Over Buhlow in Pineville, the festival in Marksville, the celebration in Natchitoches, or just in your own backyard with people you love—I hope it’s a good one.

Happy Fourth of July, and thank you, Central Louisiana, for being home.