The Battery Park bum bags are back.
At the toe of Manhattan Island, a queue of sensible walking shoes and daypacks, German accents, money belts and tack.
It was a very Fourth of July thing, to reopen the Statue. From a mighty storm and its mighty mess, you can almost imagine Lady Liberty herself mucked in with brush and pan, spit-polishing the gateway to freedom and prosperity just in time to catch the fireworks.
In Gettysburg they queued, too. Re-enacting the famous battle, crowds apparently gathered from dawn as they costumed up and took their places. They argued over who'd get to live and who'd take their turn to die. It isn't much fun to travel across country for a Civil War, only to be bayonetted in the guts two minutes in and condemned to a sunburny afternoon, lying in a Pennsylvanian paddock.
But that was the Fourth of July.