Red Hill: Birthplace of Patrick Henry and Patriotism

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 There is no denying the special quality, that faint wisp of something that is just beyond the edge of description, one feels when they visit Red Hill for a Fourth of July Celebration. Families do not come to Red Hill for Independence Day festivities because of the exciting nature of the day’s activities, although there is plenty of fun to be had visiting the historic old home place of our most outspoken statesmen. Nevertheless, Red Hill, tucked away off the beaten path as it is, seems to exude the air of a sanctuary or a refuge. It served as exactly that for Mr. Henry later in life.  A day there, for the most part is a calming, relaxing experience. There is something soulfully therapeutic about hearing the faint notes of bluegrass music drift across the immaculate grounds and off to the ridge in the distance. It is a trip back to a time when words like “Liberty” and “Patriot[ism]” were still being defined as they applied to a new “America.” Today, Patrick Henry’s home, law office, kitchen and other outbuildings remain in excellent condition. Trained docents in period dress taught inquisitive visitors various tasks of the period, such as combing and spinning yarn from flax, or making nails at the blacksmith’s shop. A few modern concessions were set up to assuage hunger pangs of the crowd. Barbecue, hamburgers, hotdogs, French fries and funnel cakes were the fare for the day. For others, there were blankets and picnic baskets full of fried chicken and sandwiches. Frisbees flew between players, as did soccer balls, footballs and the like.

    Patrick Henry Jolly, a direct descendant of Patrick Henry, treated the entire attendance on Saturday to the most famous of his forefather’s orations, the “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” speech.  After the Color Guard’s presentation of colors, Mr. Jolly took center stage in front of the bandstand. Fully dressed in period clothing and well-practiced in his lines, Mr. Jolly was able, if only for a  scant few minutes, to transport his audience back in time, back to when Patrick Henry was, by  deed and dialog, earning the title of an “American Patriot.”  As nightfall edged in on the day, a single report announced the fireworks show. The fireworks lasted about thirty minutes, maybe a little longer, and then it was over. The crowd picked up and retired to their vehicles and they, happy and contented to have visited with the fleeting voice of Liberty once again, secure in the knowledge that it still resides there, respectfully filed away home.