When the Eagle Screams

by Vaughn Ivie
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Many years in the past, when the words were forged, "When in the course of human events," I heard the Eagle scream.  The scream was of defiance, courage and faith.  The scream echoed through the hills and forests.  The sons and daughters of Liberty stood in fear of the most powerful nation on Earth at the time.  But the voice of the Eagle gave them the strength, courage and faith that they were just in their beliefs.  The sons and daughters of Liberty won their freedom, and the Eagle screamed in Joy.

Years down the road I heard the Eagle scream again, but this time it was a scream of agony.  The Eagle witnessed father's fighting sons and brother against brother.  The sons of  Liberty fought each other for years, and the ground was saturated with the blood of family and friend.  When the smoke cleared, I did not hear a scream of jubilation from the Eagle, even though I could see that he was happy that brothers no longer slew each other.  Instead I heard an uncertain chirp of confusion, and the look of fear came into his eyes.

The Eagle has been silent for so long I thought that he might be dead.  No sound has come from from him, but he was seen from time to time.  When the sons of Liberty went back across the sea to stop a tyrant's march.  To help insure the freedom of some fellow human beings.  Again he was seen when the next tyrant made a bid for creating a nation like no other, one that didn't have the ethnic differences that makes this world the place that it is.  He was seen upon two fronts -- one in the east and one in the west. I saw him then, and I could see that he was proud, but sad. He was tattered and beat and covered with mud, but I knew it was my life long friend.

Now once again I have heard his call. The sons and daughters of Liberty are rising once again.  The Eagle calls me to them, and I hear their yearning call.  The Eagle is my friend; I have known him for so long, and I have missed my friend, but it was not he who was gone.  I have missed my sons and daughters, those who stand for what is good and just.  It was I who was dead and could not hear their calls.  The Eagle has come to bring me home, to those who have missed me too.  I am coming home my children, to those who have not forgotten me and yearn for my touch.  There are still those who know who I am, but have never really known me.  For those who don't remember me, FREEDOM is my name.  It is good to hear my family call my name again, to call me back from days gone by.  And once again I hear the Eagle scream, with the same defiance, courage and faith that he had when first we met back in '76.  So sons and daughters of my dear Lady Liberty,  can you hear my friend?  Can you hear him when he screams?  I hear him scream once again, I hear him scream my name: FREEDOM!