This Fourth of July holiday stirred memories of this same day forty-eight years ago. That day was the big US celebration of the Bicentennial--200 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I was fifteen years old. My memory of the 1976 Fourth of July was that of a quiet, boring day in the country. Once again, Dad was hiding out in Pittsburgh leaving Mom and me to ourselves. We lived in a new mobile home that was parked on an isolated eight acres of former orchards between Delmont and New Alexandria, Pa. The orchards had long ago run wild. Only a few peach trees remained but red apples and yellow apples were everywhere. There is nothing like the absolute joy of climbing a tree, sitting in the branches and plucking a ripe apple to eat. I remember the day as hot and sunny. While records show the temperature during the day was around 75 degrees Fahrenheit and the skies cloudy, my memory could be faulty but I remember the sun beating down on me from blue skies while I gril...