Now & Then: Larry ponders the true meaning of freedom

Independence Day had me thinking about freedom.

It was all those 250th anniversary of America celebrations on TV during The Fourth. The music, the fireworks and, well, all those pronouncements about freedom.

Intermingled were expressions of America’s liberty. OK, I thought, so what’s the difference between freedom and liberty? Or are the two terms synonymous?

So I did what I usually do when I have a question. I asked my laptop for the answer to “freedom vs. liberty, difference.”

According to www. bing.com, “Freedom refers to the basic human capacity to make choices and act independently, free from coercion or external control. It emphasizes personal autonomy and the absence of oppression, allowing individuals to think, speak, and act according to their own will.

“Liberty, on the other hand, is the exercise of freedom within a system of laws, rules, or social norms. It is about having recognized rights and responsibilities that allow individuals to act while respecting the rights of others and maintaining societal order.”

In practical terms, according to Bing.com, “Freedom: The raw capacity for self-determination, independent of legal or social constraints.”

And, “Liberty: The responsible use of freedom within societal and legal boundaries, ensuring that one’s actions do not infringe on others’ rights.”

In other words, freedom allows us to speak our minds, worship as we please or move about without constraints. Liberty, meanwhile, would apply to such things as voting in elections or participating in public forums.

I have to admit, this column is mostly about freedom since I started it out that way. 

Freedom, for me, started out when I was old enough for Mama to feel safe letting me play outside by myself. I was free to play but had yet to claim the liberty to go to school. As it turned out, school was not a liberty I aspired to.

Anyway, I could exercise my freedom by opening up the doors to the crawl spaces that led under the house. I could look inside but the spider webs discouraged me from the freedom to crawl inside.

My older brothers and I were free to climb the ladder up to the barn loft. That freedom resulted in me falling the seven or eight feet to the ground, landing on my head.

A few years later, I was in grade school and learning about the freedoms of America. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have been born in the United States to inherit freedom.

It was liberty that allowed me to go to college and freedom that permitted me to play pickup basketball at the gym. I had the liberty to choose a major (and switch it more than once) and the freedom to attend football games.

One freedom I enjoyed that’s been all but eliminated for today’s college student is hitchhiking home on weekends. Hitching a ride with a complete stranger is no longer considered safe, for the rider or the driver.

But back in the 1960s, things were different. America was discovering the highway, not the least encouraged by Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road.”

I once hitchhiked with Gary, a college buddy, from Chapel Hill to his home at Mills River between Asheville and Hendersonville. A few months later, I covered the same ground by myself, to Mills River and later back to Chapel Hill.

There’s something freeing about sticking out your thumb as a way of asking for a ride. But it’s also a bit of a gamble, not knowing if somebody will choose to stop and ask, “Where you headed?”

I recall standing beside I-40 at Winston-Salem with my scotch guard suitcase by my side, holding up my thumb for the Friday rush hour traffic. It was getting late and there was a long way to go, through Statesville and Morganton and Asheville. 

Once in Asheville, I would switch to US Highway 25 for several miles before turning onto NC Highway 280. Gary’s family lived on 280 in a valley between mountain ranges.

My gamble paid off with a ride all the way to Asheville. There, a magnanimous man picked me up and took me the rest of the way. I arrived before the sun went down.

That, to me, was the epitome of freedom. I was making a choice and acting independently while depending on the freedom of strangers to be generous. 

Now that was freedom.

Larry Penkava is a writer for Randolph Hub. 

Contact: 336-302-2189, larrypenkava@gmail.com.