And that was when a minor modern American miracle happened. That crowd of overheated and frustrated New Yorkers began to sing with us.
Every person lined up on that highway within earshot--little children who had just been crying, their harassed parents, young teenagers, drunks swigging wine from brown paper bags--they all began to sing with us.
There was something quite moving about this strangely-united crowd singing the anthem. It was the first time I had sung the "Star Spangled Banner" in public since the last time I attended a Red Sox game six years before (my patriotism and Boston team spirit seem to have dissapated at approximately the same time).
Then, just as we reached the final bars of the anthem, "Oh, say does that star spangled banner yet wave...," a spray of dazzling white light shot up from near the pier.
It almost seemed as if we, by our combined effort, had brought forth that display.
We were all touched in that crowd, I think, by the way we had been momentarily brought together by the anthem and our usually-concealed love and pride for our nation.
Maybe patriotism isn't so uncool after all.