The Kind of Patriotism I Can Get Behind
I have been spending a piece of my summer in Grand Haven, Michigan for over thirty years. My husband, a Michigander hailing (not intended as a U of M reference—Go Green!) from nearby Grand Rapids, grew up coming to Grand Haven so it’s a homecoming for him. After all these years, it’s a homecoming for me, too. There are many delicious things about summer in western Michigan, but one that truly stands out is the annual Coast Guard Festival.
Grand Haven is a small town that loves and celebrates the Coast Guard. I mean, really, really loves—and really, really celebrates—the Coast Guard. The roots of the relationship run deep, forged through tragedy and based on the ultimate respect.
A bit of history: The U.S. Life-Saving Service (which later merged with the Revenue Cutter Service to form the modern Coast Guard) opened a station in Grand Haven in 1877, locating it where the Grand River empties into Lake Michigan. Fifty-five years later, the town became the home port for the USCGC Escanaba. During World War II the Escanaba was assigned to convoy duty in the Atlantic. On June 13, 1943, the ship was torpedoed and sank in the north Atlantic. Only 2 of the 103 men on board survived.
In a remarkable effort, the Grand Haven community—then a town of about 9,000—rallied to raise more than $1 million in war bonds (in 3 months!) to pay for a new cutter bearing the same name. The mast of the original Escanaba—removed from the ship during its wartime conversion—is on permanent display in Escanaba Park, located across the Grand River from the site of the first Life-Saving Station. In recognition of this history, Congress designated Grand Haven as the first “Coast Guard City U.S.A.”
Every August, Grand Haven honors this history during the 10-day Coast Guard Festival. Picture everything a small-town festival would have, then start multiplying: a parade to open it up, another to close it, tours of Coast Guard cutters, concerts every evening, a carnival, cardboard boat races, a street dance, and fireworks at the end to tie it all together. Something for everyone—and everyone comes. Local officials claim over 350,000 visitors over the 10 days, with nearly half arriving for the final weekend alone. We missed the Scottville Clown Band this year but caught the Bob Seger tribute concert, Forever Seger. A nice night. I believe Bob would have been pleased.
Just because we didn't get to see the Scottville Clown Band doesn't mean that you can't.
Pictures taken at last year's parade.
The most solemn event of the Coast Guard Festival is the annual National Memorial Service which honors service members who lost their lives in the line of duty. The 2026 Memorial service recognized Aviation Survival Technician Second Class Tyler Jaggers, a rescue swimmer, and Alan Johnston, a civilian lamplighter. Lamplighters tend navigational buoys in remote locations. With the death of Mr. Johnston, only 2 lamplighters remain.
It’s easy to focus on the parades and fireworks and miss the quiet moments. Like when names like Tyler Jaggers and Alan Johnston get read aloud. Tyler Jaggers—called “Jagger” by his shipmates, after Mick—died fulfilling the rescue swimmer motto: “So Others May Live.” Alan Johnston lost his life placing buoys in Lake of the Woods, Minnesota. Only his golden retriever JJ, found alone on the boat when it was recovered, knows exactly what happened, but Mr. Johnston died doing the job he’d done for 48 years. The same job his father and grandfather had done before him—setting safety buoys so that others may live.
I’m not an overly patriotic person. And performative patriotism really sets me off. Maybe that’s why I’m a sucker for the Coast Guard Festival—it’s more than flags and slogans. The town of Grand Haven goes out of its way to not only celebrate but recognize the service of the women and men in the Coast Guard, year after year. It’s the type of patriotism I can get behind.
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