Our July issue features an essay by longtime Sun contributor Dave Zoby in which he describes driving across the Canadian wilderness en route to Casper, Wyoming, on Canada Day. Zoby didn’t realize it was Canada’s national holiday until he tried to visit a bakery that was closed for the day. Such can be the case for an American abroad.
It’s one of many pieces published in The Sun where a holiday plays a central role. To celebrate Independence Day, here are a few that have appeared in our pages over the years.
Take care and read well,
Derek Askey, Associate Editor
What’s a “rootless, ersatz Puerto Rican” to do when he’s not into “parad[ing] around as a flag-waving member of the PR tribe”? Robert Lopez explores issues around identity, heritage, and spectacle—not to mention ice hockey, baseball, and tennis—in “Parade Day.” A lot more fun than Flag Day!
Perhaps it’s because my wife is a florist, but this poem—about someone choosing a bouquet on Memorial Day—just knocked the wind out of me. A lovely reminder that, while many holidays celebrate abundance and rebirth, others mark times of recollection and mourning.
In Dubai on the fifteenth night of Ramadan, author Haroon Moghul looks forward to being led in prayer by an imam “famous in the Muslim world for his mellifluous recitations of the Quran.” You can imagine Moghul’s disappointment when that imam doesn’t show, but his descriptions of the “wrong” imam who arrives instead—one who has all in attendance “shaking, breaking, struggling to stay on our legs, held up perhaps just because there were so many of us”—show just how powerful faith can be, no matter the messenger.
Passover in prison. Father’s Week, not Father’s Day. A Christmas spent sober for the first time in thirteen years. Click through to read our readers’ takes on “Holidays.”
For many, Christmas is a time of recognizing, with humility, our interconnectedness. Author Fred Hill, who spends Christmas Eve at a Salvation Army kitchen having a hot meal, recognizes this better than many. “The men sitting there looked just like me,” Hill writes. “None of us wanted to be there, but we were glad to be there. We were both embarrassed and defiant.” When his circumstances change, however, his feelings of camaraderie are tested.
For many of us, holidays—religious ones in particular—are marked by the repetition of traditions, but certain moments still stand out. In this beautiful essay about her late son’s last Passover, Kaufman describes an evening as a “small but perfect gem of motherhood.” It’s such a pleasure to share that evening with Kaufman’s family through her writing.
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