In honor of America’s Independence Day, I invite you all to journey with me into a story of profound friendship between two Founding Fathers, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams—one that spans high highs and low lows, and imparts beautiful, timeless wisdom.
American independence on July 4, 1776, set the stage for one of the boldest experiments in human history: a democratic republic—a government of the people, by the people, for the people.
At that time, most nations clung to monarchy and aristocracy. The very idea that every person could be born equal and free, capable of self-governance, was radical. Even America itself, at its founding, was not ready to live up to the ideals it had so nobly enshrined in the Declaration of Independence. And yet, we owe a deep debt to the nation’s founders—leaders who, through their dreams and strivings, however imperfect, launched a great social and moral journey. One generation after another would be called to move this country closer to becoming “a more perfect union,” to realize the soul of the American promise: one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
In commemoration of Independence Day, I want to share a story of revolution and liberty, of friendship, frailty, forgiveness, and the triumph of the human spirit. The story of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams.
When Greatness Meets Greatness
Jefferson and Adams first came together in 1775 during the early sessions of the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. Adams, from Massachusetts, was already a leading voice for independence. Jefferson, a young Virginian delegate, soon impressed him. When it came time to draft the Declaration of Independence, Adams generously nominated Jefferson, saying, “You can write ten times better than I can.”
Thus, Jefferson became the author of what has been called one of the greatest documents in history. Adams actively supported Jefferson’s draft and played a key role in persuading Congress to approve it.
Their mutual admiration ran deep. Jefferson confided to James Madison that Adams was “profound in his views, and accurate in his judgment… He is so amiable, that I pronounce you will love him if ever you become acquainted with him.” Adams, in turn, wrote in 1784 that Jefferson was “an old friend with whom I have often had occasion to labor at many a knotty problem and in whose ability and steadiness I always found great cause to confide.”
Over the next few years, both men served as diplomats — Adams as ambassador to Britain and Jefferson as ambassador to France. During their time in Europe, their families grew close. Jefferson became a trusted friend to the Adams family and formed a particularly warm relationship with John Adams’s children. When the Adams family left Paris in 1785 for London, Jefferson wrote, “The departure of your family has left me in the dumps.” And once, during a visit to Shakespeare’s home, Adams mischievously chipped a piece of the Bard’s chair, making Jefferson laugh.
When the Storms Come
The same force that can bring people together—conviction—can also pull them apart.
Jefferson favored states’ rights and agrarian democracy. Adams believed in a strong central government. In 1791, Adams published essays proposing a presidency with noble restraint and even floated the title, “His Highness the President.” Jefferson was aghast. He wrote to Madison that this was “the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of… proof [that Adams is] an honest man, often a great one, but sometimes absolutely mad.”
Their differences escalated into a bitter political rivalry. Both ran for the presidency in 1796, as George Washington was retiring. Adams received the most electoral votes and became President, while Jefferson, who came in second, became Vice President — as was the law under the original rules of the U.S. Constitution at that time.
Jefferson actively worked to undermine Adams’s presidency. Adams called Jefferson “weak, confused, uninformed, and ignorant.” Jefferson called many of Adams’s Presidential actions “the most grotesque scene in the tragic comedy of government.”
Four years later, in 1800, Jefferson defeated Adams in a viciously fought election. Adams, outraged, left Washington before the inauguration and filled the government with last-minute Federalist appointees—an act Jefferson called “the one act of Mr Adams’s life [that] ever gave me a moment’s personal displeasure.”
Jefferson struck a note of unity in his inaugural address: “We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists.” But the personal rift ran deep. Adams sent Jefferson a polite note; Jefferson never replied. And so began twelve long years of silence.
Lesson One: Even the wisest among us are not immune to ego, misunderstanding, and pride. In moments of fear or judgment, we may burn the very bridges that once carried our dreams.
The Hope of a Third Heart
But not all hope was lost. One man held onto a vision of reconciliation between these two men: Dr. Benjamin Rush, mutual friend and fellow revolutionary.
In 1809, Rush wrote Adams a letter encouraging him to reach out to Jefferson. Rather than push his case directly, he used a beautiful approach, sharing with Adams a “dream” he had had.
“What book is that in your hands?” said I to my son Richard a few nights ago in a dream.
“It is the history of the United States,” said he. “Shall I read a page of it to you?”
“No, no,” said I. “I believe in the truth of no history but in that which is contained in the Old and New Testaments.”
“But, sir,” said my son, “this page relates to your friend Mr. Adams.”
“Let me see it then,” said I…
Rush went on to share more about what was written in this history book that came to him in his dream. In it, Adams and Jefferson were characterised as heroes of America’s founding days, as Presidents who ultimately became estranged over political differences. But the history book didn’t stop there. It shared that the two eventually reconciled their differences, renewed their friendship, engaged in a prolific writing of letters, and ultimately “sunk into the grave nearly at the same time.”
Adams, touched by Rush’s letter, replied, “I have no other objection to your dream, but that it is not History. It may be Prophecy.”
Two more years passed.
Then, in 1811, a neighbor of Jefferson’s visited Adams. Adams told him, “I always loved Jefferson, and still love him.”
These words reached Jefferson’s ears. Jefferson wrote to Rush, sharing how he continued to have warmth and deep feelings for Adams. Rush saw an opportunity, so he wrote to Adams, passing on Jefferson’s sentiments and imploring him to write to Jefferson:
“Bedew your letters of reconciliation with tears of affection and joy. Bury in silence all the causes of your separation. Recollect that explanations may be proper between lovers but are never so between divided friends.”
On New Year’s Day, 1812, Adams picked up his pen and wrote the letter that would make all the difference.
Jefferson wrote back, “A letter from you calls up recollections very dear to my mind… Laboring always at the same oar… we rode through the storm with heart and hand, and made a happy port.”
Lesson Two: Reconciliation begins not with perfect timing or the perfect words, but with a humble act of grace. Sometimes all it takes is the courage to say: I remember who we were. And I still care.
Two Friends, One Final Journey
Over the next fourteen years, Jefferson and Adams wrote 158 letters to each other on philosophy, politics, religion, aging. They debated Plato and the French Revolution. They laughed, reminisced, forgave.
In one letter, Jefferson wrote:
“So good night! I will dream on, always fancying that Mrs. Adams and yourself are by my side marking the progress and the obliquities of ages and countries.”
Adams responded:
“May we be ‘a barrier against the returns of ignorance and barbarism!’… Upon this principle, I prophesy that you and I shall soon meet and be better friends than ever.”
And then, on a certain day in 1826, Adams passed away. His last words were, “Thomas Jefferson survives.”
Little did he know that, a few hours earlier, on that very day, Jefferson too had died.
This day on which they both died was July 4, 1826—the 50th anniversary of American independence. Indeed, as in Rush’s dream, they had “sunk into the grave nearly at the same time.”
Lesson Three: The deepest relationships are not those that are never tested, but those which, having fractured,are lovingly rebuilt. They become stronger, wiser, eternal.
A Message for Our Moment
Jefferson and Adams remind us that even when history seems carved in stone, even when differences feel too vast to bridge, there is still time for redemption. Still room for growth. Still hope for reunion.
We live in a world full of noise, division, and sharp edges. But beneath our arguments, beneath our pride, there is often a memory—of shared dreams, of mutual respect, of something sacred. If we can reach for that memory, we can build again.
Let us not only celebrate independence today, but also interdependence. Let us walk the inner path of humility and courage, and the outer path of dialogue and unity. As Adams and Jefferson showed us, this is not weakness. t is our highest strength.
And if you ever find yourself estranged from a loved one—not by miles, but by misunderstandings, ideologies, or pride—may you have the courage to listen to the Benjamin Rush in your life. The one who reminds you of what once was, and what still can be.
With reverence and resolve,
Hitendra
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