Today as the sun comes up over in Richmond, Virginia— I find myself thinking about this city and its past. Richmond is not afraid to show its history. It carries it right out in the open, where you can see it, feel it, with the scars laid bare. It’s not hidden or polished. It’s in the brick walls and the worn-down steps, in the church bells and train horns. It’s in the silence between whispers, and in the noise of peaceful discord.
Here, the past doesn’t feel distant—it walks beside the present, but this city keeps looking forward. There’s hope here. A kind of quiet revival you can feel if you stand still long enough.
Being here now is like standing between two rivers. On one side, you have the James—steady, patient, always moving east. On the other side, you have the unknown. The part of life no map can explain. And in the middle, there’s Richmond. A city that once held the reins of something dark and cruel, and yet somehow found its way to something better. A place that’s learning, still changing, still standing.
I look around and I see not a city but country—its story written right into every corners and cracks. It’s there in the pavement. It echoes in the hum of every pickup truck that rolls down Broad Street. And every face I see say the same thing to me: America.
We’re the sons and daughters of the forgotten, the tossed aside. The scum of failing empires. The broken pieces of old wars and bad governments. But we came here anyway. And built Institutions. Roads. Schools. Dreams. Somehow, in all that mess, we built something worth keeping.
And in this Fourth of July, the rest of the country could learn something from this city.
Right now, it feels like we’re being pulled apart, pitted against each other in matters of pettiness. Not by strangers, but by people who wants only power. People who need us to hate each other so they can stay on top. So they could stifle wisdom and our American values. To keep us afraid. But that’s not who we are. It never has been.
It took guts to come here. Guts to cross the ocean. Guts to stand up to a king and say, no more! That kind of courage runs deep in this country—even if we forget it sometimes.
“And the rocket’s red glare, the bomb bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.”
I’ve always been proud to be here—even now, in spite of everything going on for I know we will rise, endure, and overcome.
I’ll step outside now, breathe in the air and fill my lungs with the deep clean air of democracy—thick as it is—and feel what it means to be part of something bigger than myself. That’s what this day’s about. Not fireworks. Not parades. But the chance to stop for one moment and remember what we’re part of.
To feel it in your chest—the weight of freedom, and the cost of keeping it.
Happy Independence Day, Richmond. Happy Fourth of July, America!
Let’s not forget what we’ve been given. Or what we’re still fighting for —A republic, if we can keep it!
A Kings 
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