This July 4th, a family waits: American hostage’s father pleads for son's freedom from Hamas terrorists

The first time I remember celebrating the Fourth of July was during the American bicentennial in 1976. As children living in New York City, my parents woke my sisters and I up early to see the Parade of Tall Ships as it entered the Hudson River. Even as a kid, this magnificent display conveyed to me a sense of the grand power of the U.S. The extraordinary event also offered me another feeling: that America, my home country, would do anything and everything in its power to keep me, my family, and indeed, all of its citizens, safe.