Estes Valley Voice editorial cartoonist Dick Mulhern read a reflection on the U.S. Constitution on Constitution Day, Sept. 17, 2026 in Bond Park on the Free Speech soapbox. Credit: Patti Brown / Estes Valley Voice
Two hundred and thirty-nine years ago — on September 17, 1787 — thirty-nine men walked up to a table in a stifling, shuttered room in Philadelphia to sign their names to four sheets of parchment.
They were exhausted. They had argued bitterly for four months. Some delegates had packed their bagsandgonehomeindisgust.BenjaminFranklin,eighty-oneyearsoldandinfailinghealth, looked at the draft before them and admitted:
“I confess that there are several parts of this constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them… I agree to this Constitution with all its faults, if they are such; because I think a general Government necessary for us… and because I doubt too whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better Constitution.”
Franklin understood something profound: the Constitution was never meant to be a temple of absolute perfection. It was an engine designed for free, imperfect people to govern themselves without tearing each other apart.
From the start of human history, power was simple: kings ruled by bloodline, emperors ruled by force, and the individual was an afterthought. The American Constitution dared to invert that entire hierarchy in its first three words: “We the People.” Not “We the States.” Not “We the Magistrates.” But the People.
As Daniel Webster later reflected: “Hold on, my friends, to the Constitution and to the Republic for which it stands. Miracles do not cluster, and what has happened once in six thousand years may not happen again. Hold on to the Constitution, for if the American Constitution should fall, there will be anarchy throughout the world.”
Webster called it a miracle, but it was also practical architecture. The Framers knew human nature. They knew ambition, factionalism, and pride. They didn’t build a system that demanded saints to run it; they built a system where power checks power, where dissent has a lawful home, and where no single branch, leader, or majority can ever possess unchecked authority.
And yet, parchment alone cannot protect freedom. Words on paper have no armies, no courts, and no voice of their own. They depend entirely on the character of the citizens who stand behind them.
Judge Learned Hand, speaking during the dark days of the Second World War, gave us one of the sharpest reminders in American history:
“Liberty lies in the hearts of men and women; when it dies there, no constitution, no law, no court can save it; no constitution, no law, no court can even do much to help it. While it lies there, it needs no constitution, no law, no court to save it.”
ThatiswhywegatherheretodayinEstes—in civic halls, parks, and local squares across the country — to mark this day.
Constitutional government isn’t just decided under the Capitol dome in Washington. It is practiced right there. Itislivedeverytimeneighborswithsharplydifferentviewpointssitinaroomtogetherto solveacommunityissue.It is lived every time a citizen speaks freely at a town board meeting, casts a ballot, serves on a local jury, or reads an independent press that holds authority accountable.
The brilliance of the Constitution lies not just in what it established in 1787, but in its capacity to expand. It gave us the tools to correct its original blind spots, to widen the circle of liberty, to abolish slavery, to grant women the franchise, and to continually strive toward that opening promise: “a more perfect Union.”
As Franklin signed the parchment on that final day,helookedatGeorgeWashington’schair, which had a sun carved into the wooden crest behind the President’s head. Franklin remarked that throughout the tense debates, he had often looked at that sun and wondered whether it was rising or setting.
“Now at length, Franklin told his colleagues, ‘I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting sun.”
Whether that sun continues to rise is never guaranteed by the past. It is an active choice made by every generation of Americans who choose civic responsibility over cynicism, and neighborly engagement over division.
Let us celebrate this remarkable charter today—not as relics behind museum glass, but as a living trust placed directly into our hands.
Dick Mulhern is an editorial cartoonist. He has been a small business owner and has served on many community boards including most recently the Estes Park School District's Advisory and Accountability...
More by Dick Mulhern
Constitution Day 2026
Two hundred and thirty-nine years ago — on September 17, 1787 — thirty-nine men walked up to a table in a stifling, shuttered room in Philadelphia to sign their names to four sheets of parchment.
They were exhausted. They had argued bitterly for four months. Some delegates had packed their bagsandgonehomeindisgust.BenjaminFranklin,eighty-oneyearsoldandinfailinghealth, looked at the draft before them and admitted:
“I confess that there are several parts of this constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them… I agree to this Constitution with all its faults, if they are such; because I think a general Government necessary for us… and because I doubt too whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better Constitution.”
Franklin understood something profound: the Constitution was never meant to be a temple of absolute perfection. It was an engine designed for free, imperfect people to govern themselves without tearing each other apart.
From the start of human history, power was simple: kings ruled by bloodline, emperors ruled by force, and the individual was an afterthought. The American Constitution dared to invert that entire hierarchy in its first three words: “We the People.” Not “We the States.” Not “We the Magistrates.” But the People.
As Daniel Webster later reflected: “Hold on, my friends, to the Constitution and to the Republic for which it stands. Miracles do not cluster, and what has happened once in six thousand years may not happen again. Hold on to the Constitution, for if the American Constitution should fall, there will be anarchy throughout the world.”
Webster called it a miracle, but it was also practical architecture. The Framers knew human nature. They knew ambition, factionalism, and pride. They didn’t build a system that demanded saints to run it; they built a system where power checks power, where dissent has a lawful home, and where no single branch, leader, or majority can ever possess unchecked authority.
And yet, parchment alone cannot protect freedom. Words on paper have no armies, no courts, and no voice of their own. They depend entirely on the character of the citizens who stand behind them.
Judge Learned Hand, speaking during the dark days of the Second World War, gave us one of the sharpest reminders in American history:
“Liberty lies in the hearts of men and women; when it dies there, no constitution, no law, no court can save it; no constitution, no law, no court can even do much to help it. While it lies there, it needs no constitution, no law, no court to save it.”
ThatiswhywegatherheretodayinEstes—in civic halls, parks, and local squares across the country — to mark this day.
Constitutional government isn’t just decided under the Capitol dome in Washington. It is practiced right there. Itislivedeverytimeneighborswithsharplydifferentviewpointssitinaroomtogetherto solveacommunityissue.It is lived every time a citizen speaks freely at a town board meeting, casts a ballot, serves on a local jury, or reads an independent press that holds authority accountable.
The brilliance of the Constitution lies not just in what it established in 1787, but in its capacity to expand. It gave us the tools to correct its original blind spots, to widen the circle of liberty, to abolish slavery, to grant women the franchise, and to continually strive toward that opening promise: “a more perfect Union.”
As Franklin signed the parchment on that final day,helookedatGeorgeWashington’schair, which had a sun carved into the wooden crest behind the President’s head. Franklin remarked that throughout the tense debates, he had often looked at that sun and wondered whether it was rising or setting.
“Now at length, Franklin told his colleagues, ‘I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting sun.”
Whether that sun continues to rise is never guaranteed by the past. It is an active choice made by every generation of Americans who choose civic responsibility over cynicism, and neighborly engagement over division.
Let us celebrate this remarkable charter today—not as relics behind museum glass, but as a living trust placed directly into our hands.
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Dick MulhernEditorial Cartoonist
Dick Mulhern is an editorial cartoonist. He has been a small business owner and has served on many community boards including most recently the Estes Park School District's Advisory and Accountability... More by Dick Mulhern