I know one person who makes a living on the water of the Gulf of Mexico.

Many tens if not hundreds of thousands do. And I know people who make their livings in towns and cities there, but only one man who does so out on the water. Not that being out on the water is a distinction of one sort or another. Disaster is disaster. But when I think of the water, I think of Captain Doug Stewart. Boca Grande. Gasparilla Island. Florida.

We met Doug when Ripton was 7 years old, I think. Something like that. A dozen years ago, more or less. Doug started to call Ripton "the zen fisherman," because Ripton took to the water and fishing in a preternatural way. Ripton saw into the water. He wouldn't stand for anyone keeping fish. He lived inside the fishing.

I'd sit in the boat and read. Doug and Ripton fished. For red drum, snook, sheepshead, sea trout. Fish and names I've probably forgotten.

Doug and Carol made their family - two boys who love baseball! And we stayed in touch but stopped fishing. More or less. Until Ripton wanted to go fishing again. He was big enough for tarpon, and Doug fishes tarpon with a type of respect that falls into sanctity.

Ripton and I went out with Doug a couple of years ago, then with our friend John Howard last summer...

The man beside Doug is Richard Volpe, who is filming a documentary history of tarpon fishing around Gasparilla.

I think of Doug on 4th of July's... Because I know that Doug and his family are the best of what I dream of for America. Doug and Carol are good church going Christians, and I'm not quite church going or quite Christian. Doug (and I don't know about Carol) is a pretty seriously dedicated conservative and Republican. And I'm not quite Republican or quite conservative. And Doug knows my views on things. And he calls me "Brother," and phones to see how I am from time to time, and cares about my life, and my family, exactly as I care about him, and Carol, and their boys who thankfully love baseball.

Doug cares pretty much about the same things that I do. Loving our children. Making a good home. Working with those around us who have less to have more. Helping to protect the earth. Living in thriving communities. We come to these concerns from different directions, but we are in the same place. Which happens with circles.

There's no grandstanding with Doug. No pontificating anger or animosity in front of a microphone.

So I think about what America really is each 4th of July. And I think about Doug.

And the day after, I wanted to say that.