On the morning of July 4, 1826, John Adams was dying.
It was the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence — the document he had helped write, argued for, and dedicated his life to.
He had outlived almost everyone from that era. He was ninety years old. His old friend and rival Thomas Jefferson — with whom he had argued, reconciled, and exchanged hundreds of extraordinary letters in the twilight of their lives — was still alive, ninety miles away in Virginia.
Adams's last words, as best as anyone recorded them:
'Thomas Jefferson still survives.'
He was wrong. Jefferson had died that same morning, a few hours earlier, at Monticello. He had also been fighting to live long enough to see this day.
Two of the three principal authors of the Declaration of Independence, dying on the same day — the Fourth of July, fifty years to the day.
There is no good explanation for this. There is only the weight of it.
What John Adams did not know, in his last breath, was that the man he was thinking of had already gone. He died believing his friend was still there.
Perhaps that was enough.
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