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What Americans do, and why

The Fourth of July picnic, the Friday fish fry, the block party, Election Day at the town hall — where each of these days came from, how a town keeps it, and why it is still worth keeping.

35 stories
The Casserole Dish That Comes Back in September
September

The Casserole Dish That Comes Back in September

In September the church supper begins again, and every glass dish comes back to the name taped underneath it.

The Last Cookout of the Season
September

The Last Cookout of the Season

One more meal in the open air, one last swim, and the long September ritual of putting the pool to bed.

Police lining a city street during a Labor Day parade, marchers seated on the cable-car tracks
September

Why Labor Day Ends the Summer

A holiday invented for workers became the country's unofficial full stop — this is how September got its line in the calendar.

The Last Block Party of Summer
August

The Last Block Party of Summer

On one Saturday each August, the city lets a street go quiet, and the people on it finally meet.

The Blue Ribbon on the August Jar
August

The Blue Ribbon on the August Jar

After the county fair awards it, the ribbon stays on the jar through Augusts of kitchen light.

A crowd in printed dresses, hats and shirtsleeves sits and stands around white-clothed tables in the dappled shade of moss-hung live oaks, a tall green corn field behind and sunlit grass in front
July

A Fourth of July Picnic Under the Live Oaks

In 1939, Marion Post Wolcott photographed a Fourth of July picnic on St. Helena Island—a gathering in the shade of live oaks.

Twelve Minutes Down Main Street
July

Twelve Minutes Down Main Street

In the hot American middle of the year, a thousand towns close one street and walk it together, past the same chairs and the same flags, for twelve minutes.

The Cast Flag Bracket on the Porch Post
July

The Cast Flag Bracket on the Porch Post

Each July the cast flag bracket is lifted out of its idle months and holds the porch flag through the long days and the Fourth.

The Backyard Graduation Party
June

The Backyard Graduation Party

Every June, the backyard graduation party turns a lawn into a stage for folding tables, sheet cake, and relatives who drove hours to be there.

How June Became the Wedding Month
June

How June Became the Wedding Month

A goddess, a week of temple sweeping, and a gap between planting and hay made June the month America still marries in.

The June Pavilion
June

The June Pavilion

The pavilion is rented in winter, the potato salad assigned in spring, and on a June Saturday the whole family shows up wearing its name tags.

The First Saturday in May
May

The First Saturday in May

On the first Saturday in May the twin spires of Churchill Downs rise over Louisville, the mint is crushed, and the month turns on a two-minute race.

The Flag on the Wire Stem
May

The Flag on the Wire Stem

A small flag on a wire stem is pushed into the sod for Memorial Day in the week before the last Monday of May.

A stone cross and ivy-covered headstones among planted flowers in a cemetery
May

The Long Renaming of Decoration Day

A May custom of flowers on soldiers' graves, begun the spring the war ended, took a century to become the holiday on the last Monday.

A young woman in a cowboy hat showing a pig in the sand ring at a county fair, onlookers along the rail
May

The Fair Begins in May

The county fair is written in May, in courthouse rooms, months before the first ribbon is pinned to a heifer's halter.

Pink, blue, green and purple plastic eggs in the grass of a backyard lawn, a cardboard box of eggs beside a folding chair and a weathered picnic table
April

Hunting Eggs on the American Lawn

Every April the American lawn is mown, raked, and patched up — then hands over its grass for half an hour of running and plastic eggs.

What April Means on Opening Day
April

What April Means on Opening Day

In a small town, Opening Day is the day the calendar turns from mud to baseball, and April makes the promise.

An old twin-bell alarm clock on a plain white ground
March

Spring Forward, Argue Again

Every March the clocks jump ahead and the whole argument starts up again — a century-long fight over who owns the hour.

Friday Night, Lent, and the Smell of Fried Fish
March

Friday Night, Lent, and the Smell of Fried Fish

In the upper Midwest, the Lenten fish fry fills church basements and fire halls — a Friday ritual of paper plates, long lines, and hot oil.

A groundhog sitting upright on a concrete ledge in front of summer grass
February

What the Groundhog Inherited from Candlemas

The groundhog's shadow on February 2 descends from an older ceremony of candlelight, carried from Germany to Pennsylvania by settlers who read the sky.

The February Firehouse Pancake Breakfast
February

The February Firehouse Pancake Breakfast

In February, volunteer fire companies open their kitchens to neighbors, flipping pancakes to pay for hoses, air packs, and the work no one else will fund.

A Card for Every Name
February

A Card for Every Name

Each February, American classrooms turn a shoebox into a post office, and a holiday about lovers into a drill in covering the whole list.

Eating for Luck on the First of January
January

Eating for Luck on the First of January

From Hoppin' John in the South to pork and sauerkraut in the Pennsylvania Dutch country, the first meal of January is a map of America's kitchens.

The Cast-Iron Christmas Tree Stand
December

The Cast-Iron Christmas Tree Stand

In December the cast-iron stand comes up from the cellar — cold, worn gray at the high places, level on the floor where the tree will stand.