1776 Meets 2026

Traces of twilight still shone in the evening sky. The five men, known as the Committee of Five, decided to cease their work for the day. The youngest of them, Thomas, had spent two weeks drafting the document the others were now editing and reediting. Their goal was to complete this process to present their finished work to Congress by early July. 

“You have done a worthy job, Mr. Jefferson,” the oldest man spoke. “I trust our changes have not injured your intentions or sentiment.” 

“I am thankful for your wisdom, Mr. Franklin,” Thomas replied with a smile. 

Supper at a nearby tavern awaited. They donned knee-length coats over their waistcoats and headed toward the front door. As Mr. Sherman from Connecticut opened the door, the five froze. The scene outside the door was unknown to them. Streetlamps glowed without visible flame. People passing by were clothed in the strangest attire. Carriages, with no horse or mule visible, sped past, emitting ship-horn noises.  

“Zounds! Am I in a dream?” Mr. Livingston inquired. 

“Perhaps we all are,” Franklin retorted, “but let’s explore that establishment across the street.” 

“A mall building?” queried Mr. Adams. 

“Yes,” proclaimed Franklin, marching ahead. “I’m hungry.”  

The men entered the building after Franklin inspected the door to ascertain how it had opened with no apparent human assistance. The ceilings were high, the lighting robust, the noise level abundant, and the space filled with strangely dressed young bachelors and maidens. 

“Hey, check out these dudes!” one of them exclaimed, as a group of them surrounded the five gentlemen. Multiple voices rang out. “Dope outfits.” “Which one of you is George Washington?”  

“Can I take a selfie?” a young lass asked as she stood with her back to the five and held a device aloft.  

“What, may I ask, are you holding?” Franklin inquired. 

The young lass answered that it was her phone. The older man seemed puzzled but continued asking what it did. She said it could be used to talk to people and take photos. When the older man seemed still puzzled, she took a quick photo of Franklin and showed him the phone screen. 

“Oh, my,” exclaimed the older man. “An instant painting.” 

“True dat,” the lass replied with a grin. 

“John, come look at this,” Franklin commanded. Adams peered at the phone screen. 

“I must say, a better image of you than in real life, Ben,” quipped Adams. 

“You can look stuff up, too,” a young man named Richie interjected, holding up his phone. 

“Stuff?” 

“You know, facts and news and stuff.” 

“Like a library?” Adams asked. 

“Way more than that. Anything you wanna know.” 

“Anything?” Adams answered. “Like Aristotle?” 

“I don’t know what that is, but check out this vid,” Richie replied. 

“It looks like a cat,” Adams responded. 

“Bet. And look at what it does. It’s cray.” 

Adams observed for a while, then leaned toward Franklin and whispered, “This lad could be enlightening himself with Aristotle, yet he chooses to look at paintings of cats.” 

“Whatcha dudes doing with your fancy fit?” one of the bystanders asked the men.  

“We’re drafting a Declaration of Independence for a new country, your country, our country,” Livingston answered proudly. 

“We read about that in school,” one youngster announced. 

“Yeah, they’re like reenactors,” another chimed in. 

“So, what’s in that decoration thing you’re doing?” a lad with ample tats inquired. 

“It lists our grievances against King George,” Livingston replied, “and sets forth…” 

“Whatcha got against King George?” the tatted boy interrupted. 

“The first is that he has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good,” Livingston began to explain. 

The younger crowd stared at Livingston, then at each other. Finally, one spoke up. “You talking ‘bout King George, the rapper from Hopkins, South Carolina?” 

The five older men stared at the questioner, then at each other. 

Jefferson, who had been quietly watching the encounter since they entered the building, broke the silence. “May I inquire as to the date today?” 

“We don’t really date. We jus’ hang together here at the mall, or sometimes jus’ hang alone,” one lad replied. 

Franklin thought, “‘Hang together or hang separately.’ I might use that line one day.” 

“No, the date,” Jefferson continued. “What month, day, and year is it?” 

“Dude don’t know da date!” one heckler interjected. 

“Check your phone,” another hollered. 

Jefferson held up both hands to show he did not have one of their tools. 

Finally, a young lass spoke up. “It’s June 30, 2026.” 

“2026?” Jefferson asked. 

“Fo sho,” the lass answered. 

Jefferson rubbed his chin. Adams scratched his brow. All the five looked lost in thought. 

Franklin spoke first. “I’m hungry. Where might we find repast?’ 

The young crowd looked puzzled, so Franklin added, “Vittles, food.” 

“Oh food,” one of the young lads proclaimed. “We got a great food court. Follow me.” 

“A court,” Franklin whispered to Jefferson. “It must be regal.” 

The five were amazed by the fare before them when they arrived in the court. Franklin especially liked the illuminated menus affixed to the wall. Adams thought them immodest and too expensive.  

At one establishment, Livingston pointed out to Sherman and Adams, “Look, they have an ale named after your associate, Mr. Samuel Adams.” 

“I’m sorry,” a waiter explained, “but we are out of Samuel Adams ale. The Scots drank it all up in Boston.” 

“The Scots are in Boston?” Adams gasped. 

“You know, during the World Cup. They drank the city dry,” the waiter explained. 

“We must warn General Washington,” Adams continued. 

The five men enjoyed their respective meals, which the younger folks paid for when an establishment would not accept Franklin’s British pounds.  

Full and fitted, the five men walked back to the door where they had entered the mall. Again, the door opened, as if by magic. As they stepped outside, they were met by a familiar sight: the Philadelphia they knew and had left no more than an hour ago. They walked slowly along the cobblestone street toward their lodgings, recounting their experience in the mall. Sherman finally voiced what each was thinking: “If that be the future, are we sure what we are about to do is the right course?” 

No one spoke for a while. Then Jefferson said softly, “Their future is in the hands of our Creator, who has endowed them with certain unalienable rights. It is our duty to pave the way for them to provide new guards for their future security.” 

Patting Jefferson on the back, Franklin proclaimed, “Well said, Tom. Well said!”