Twelve-year old Betsy Ross thought the worst thing about the summer of 1976 was missing camp and being stuck on her grandmother’s farm in Lexington, Massachusetts. Her father has suffered a devastating emotional breakdown, her family is on the verge of losing their New York apartment, and now Betsy is trapped cleaning horse stalls and breathing through the smell of manure.
But the Ross Family Farm has secrets.
Hidden beneath the barn is a mysterious cellar, a forbidden button, and a journey through history Betsy never meant to take. When greedy developers threaten the farm and corner Betsy and her new friend Nate underground, they make a desperate choice, sending them hurtling back in time to April 19, 1775.
The day the Revolutionary War began.
Now Betsy and Nate must survive Colonial America, avoid suspicion, and uncover the truth about Betsy’s family before history—and their own future—is changed forever. Along the way, Betsy begins to realize that healing her father’s broken spirit may depend on understanding generations of Rosses who came before him.
Blending heart, humor, mystery, and adventure, The Summer of ’76 is a fast-paced middle-grade novel about courage, family, friendship, and discovering where you truly belong.
Twelve-year old Betsy Ross thought the worst thing about the summer of 1976 was missing camp and being stuck on her grandmother’s farm in Lexington, Massachusetts. Her father has suffered a devastating emotional breakdown, her family is on the verge of losing their New York apartment, and now Betsy is trapped cleaning horse stalls and breathing through the smell of manure.
But the Ross Family Farm has secrets.
Hidden beneath the barn is a mysterious cellar, a forbidden button, and a journey through history Betsy never meant to take. When greedy developers threaten the farm and corner Betsy and her new friend Nate underground, they make a desperate choice, sending them hurtling back in time to April 19, 1775.
The day the Revolutionary War began.
Now Betsy and Nate must survive Colonial America, avoid suspicion, and uncover the truth about Betsy’s family before history—and their own future—is changed forever. Along the way, Betsy begins to realize that healing her father’s broken spirit may depend on understanding generations of Rosses who came before him.
Blending heart, humor, mystery, and adventure, The Summer of ’76 is a fast-paced middle-grade novel about courage, family, friendship, and discovering where you truly belong.
The Port Authority bus terminal smelled like cigarettes and gas fumes. I guarded our suitcases while Granny checked the big board for our gate number. Looking around, I noticed people swerving away from a man in torn, dirty clothes. He walked straight toward me holding out his hand. “I’m hungry.” His voice was gentle. “Will you help?”
I rubbed the quarter in my pocket, my drink money. “Here,” I said. “It’s all I have.” As he reached for it, a purple birthmark peeked out from the blue bandana tied around his neck. Dad had the same mark on his right hand. He called it his Liberty Bell.
“Thank you, Miss Ross,” said the man, his kind eyes smiling as mine opened wide.
“Do we know each other?”
“Get away from her!” Granny came running. “Shoo! Shoo!” she cried, flicking her hand at the man. He bowed to me, straightened, and strolled off. Granny’s face twisted. “Hasn’t anyone taught you not to talk to strangers? Do you want to end up in the funny farm like your father?”
Ouch. Leave Dad out of this. “He was hungry,” I said. “And he knew my name!”
“Because it’s on your suitcase.” Oh. “And I don’t care. You’re a young girl, and you don’t know him. Got it?”
“Yes, Granny.”
“That’s our bus pulling in. Take your bag and follow me.” Bending to get my suitcase, I saw a shiny penny. I scooped it up, closed my eyes, and made a wish, stuffing it in my pocket as I caught up to her.
Granny gave me the window seat, but that didn’t make the trip any less boring. I didn’t want to be on that bus. I wanted to go to summer camp with my friends.Then last month, Dad was giving money to a drifter when a thief grabbed Dad’s wallet and pushed him down the New York subway stairs. He didn’t break any bones, but he told me his soul hurt. I didn’t know what that meant. It turned out to be serious. Very serious. He stopped getting dressed in the morning. Stopped shaving. Stopped going to the university to teach philosophy.
He cried a lot. When Mom saw how it scared me, she explained Dad was going through a sad time. Two weeks later, men in white coats came and took him to Green Hills Recovery Center in Connecticut. Mom said it was a kind of hospital to heal sick minds. Dad had been there ever since.
As the bus passed through Connecticut, buildings gave way to fields and lakes. I was supposed to be at one of those lakes. But without Dad working, we couldn’t afford camp. And if he wasn’t well enough to teach by September, we’d lose our university apartment. We’d have no place to live!
I squeezed my eyes shut so Granny wouldn’t see me crying. She’d shown up at our apartment the night before for a surprise visit. “You need to teach full-time,”she’d told Mom. “My granddaughter will NOT wander the streets of New York alone. Betsy’s coming back to the farm with me, Sarah. It’s 1976, for goodness’ sake.What better place to spend our Bicentennial Summer than Lexington, Massachusetts, where the United States began?”
My best friend Stacey was probably packing her trunk for Camp Big Lake while I sat in that stinky Greyhound bus driving past it. When I said good-bye, I told Stacey that Peter Morgan was all hers. What else could I say? Besides, every girl in sixth grade had a crush on him, so it seemed right to be generous.
***
I woke up as we pulled into the South Station terminal in Boston. We stepped off the bus, and Granny waved to a man in a straw hat. He waved back. “That’s Levi,” she said. “He’ll take us home.”
Levi loaded our luggage into the back of a pickup truck next to sacks labeled “fertilizer.” They smelled like dog poop. I stared out the backseat window. It was going to be a looong summer.
Boston looked like New York, only smaller. As we drove, Granny talked to Levi about crops and planting. Then they whispered. I smiled, because I heard every-thing.
“They came while you were away,” whispered Levi. “I said I couldn’t help them.”
“Did you tell them they were trespassing?” asked Granny.
“I did. They laughed, said it was only a matter of time.”
“Time shmime. We’re not going anywhere. If they
come again, I’m calling the police.”
Who was trespassing? Granny glanced at the backseat to see if I heard them. Of course I did, but I wasn’t about to reveal my superpower. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
I turned away from the window. “Everything okay?” I asked.
“Right as rain,” she said. “My only grandchild has returned to the Ross Family Farm. I’ve waited for this day since your parents took you to New York.”
Dad had told me about the farm. He loved growing up there. Whenever he mentioned it, he sounded homesick. He even subscribed to a magazine about farming. Since I had to be here, I’d look for something, anything, to help heal his soul. Then I’d be on the next bus home.
Levi drove up a dirt driveway and parked in front of a big red barn. “We’re here,” he said. The barn doors were open. Inside, two silky tails switched back and forth.
“You have horses?”
“We have horses,” said Granny.
Ours? Like part mine? “Can I ride them?”
“Do you know how?” I shook my head. “We’ll teach you,” she said, “just as soon as you learn how to brush them, feed them, and clean their stalls.” Manure again.“Still interested?”
She almost lost me at cleaning the stalls, but I love horses. “I’m interested.”
“Good. We’ll start tomorrow. Let’s go inside and have lunch.”
A stone path led from the barn to a big yellow house. A plaque on the front door read, “Lexington Historical Home, built by Dr. John Ross, 1770.” I followed Granny through the side door into the kitchen.
“Well look who’s here!” said a plump woman, wiping her hands on her apron. Copper pans hung on hooks above her. “Fancy beef stew?” I nodded. I was starving. The woman smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you, love?” I shook my head. “I’m Meghan, Levi’s wife. He manages the farm, and I manage the house—under your Granny’s direction, of course. I haven’t seen you since you were a wee thing. Welcome home!”
“Thank you, Meghan. I’m only here for the summer—until my dad feels better.”
“Of course, love,” said Meghan. She put on mitts and took a round loaf from the oven. “Have you ever had Irish soda bread?” I shook my head. “Then you’re infor a treat.”
“Are you from Ireland?” I asked.
She laughed. “Now how’d you guess, clever girl?” She put a stick of butter on the table and gave me a knife. The sweet bread and butter were so good, I closedmy eyes, chewing. And listening.
“Those good-for-nothings came while you were away,” Meghan whispered to Granny. “They’ll be back.”
“Levi told me,” Granny whispered. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with them.” Had the good-for-nothings bothered Dad, too?
The huge kitchen had two stoves and a big white sink in front of a window overlooking chickens clucking in the backyard. Our New York kitchen was tiny. Mom didn’t cook. She heated TV dinners, or we ordered take-out.
Tap, tap. Levi knocked on the screen door. “Ms. Rose, where should I put Betsy’s bag?”
“In Johnny’s room, please.” Granny turned to me. “You’ll sleep in your dad’s old room.” Perfect. I’d look for clues, things that made him happy. “Go wash up, then help Meghan set the table.”
I followed Levi upstairs past Granny’s tidy room at the front of the house, down the hall into Dad’s room. It felt like stepping into a time machine. I smiled; histeenage room was just as messy as his study in our apartment. Books filled the bookcases on either side of a gable window. Stacks of them rose like skyscrapers from the floor.
“I’ll get these out of your way,” said Levi, scooping up an armful.
“No, no, thank you,” I said. “I’d like to look through them.”
Dad said reading helped him think. I scanned the titles: books about gardening, baseball, and lots and lots of books about philosophy.
Knock, knock, knock! Someone pounded the front door.
“Levi,” Granny yelled from the kitchen. “I said Betsy’s bag goes in Johnny’s room.”
“It’s not Levi,” called a fake sweet voice. “Have you considered our offer?” It sounded like a threat, not a question.
Running down the hall to Granny’s bedroom window, I saw a man in a bright red blazer, white shirt, and navy-blue tie. He reminded me of those BritishRedcoats from sixth-grade history. We’d studied the American Revolution all year because 1976 was our country’s 200th birthday.
Clump, clump, clump. Levi was halfway down the stairs when I caught up to him. Granny stormed past us holding a big copper pan. She opened the door, and the man jumped back. “You’re trespassing,” she said. “This is Ross land. Now get off my property before I call the police!”
The man laughed. Granny swung the pan, just missing him. He turned and ran. She picked up the pan and chased after him. “You better run,” she yelled. “If you bother us again, I’ll smack you in the head!”
Granny chased him down the path to a big black Cadillac parked in front of the barn. Another man wearing the same red jacket sat in the driver’s seat with the motor running. The trespasser dashed into the car and slammed the door just before Granny caught up to him. “Go!” he yelled. As the two men escaped down the driveway, the fake man stuck his head out the window and yelled something to her. Levi didn’t hear it, but I did.
“You can’t stop progress,” he called. “You’re the last farm left. New Fox neighborhoods are all around you. Take the money and retire. You have no choice!”
Granny hurled the pan after the disappearing car. “We’ll see about that,” she yelled back. While she spoke with Levi, I ran into the house and set the table. The screen door squeaked as Granny plodded back into the kitchen, her eyes red. Her shoulders sagged the way Dad’s did after he was mugged. Was this place makingGranny sad? Was it kryptonite to all Rosses? Or were the trespassers the problem? I placed the last fork on the last napkin. “Good work,” she said, trying to smile. “After lunch, I’ll show you the farm.”
Elizabeth “Betsy” Ross is living her worst nightmare. While her father recovers from emotional health issues, Betsy is leaving New York and heading to the Ross family farm to live with her grandmother during the summer of 1976. Not only is the young girl at a loss for what to do to help her father recover; she is missing out on going to summer camp with her best friend. But what this city girl’s about to find out is there’s a lot more to living on a farm than meets the eye. Her grandmother’s under attack from a family of land developers who want to turn the farm into high-priced luxury condos and destroy the legacy and secret the Ross family has passed down for 200 years. Can one girl hold the key to stopping some big-time bullies and saving the farm that means so much to the community?
Dive into a summer of adventure and surprises in The Summer of ‘76 by Liz Bieler. This middle-grade novel blends history and the mysteries of time travel to provide readers with a rich story full of valuable life lessons. Readers will delight in getting to know Betsy as she adjusts to life on the farm and is swept off into another time and place. They’ll also enjoy the suspense of outwitting the bullies who threaten the farm and fighting for what's right to the very end.
As we celebrate the 250th birthday of the United States, Betsy is celebrating the 200th and visiting the Revolutionary War period. Bieler provides historical background in an engaging way that helps readers understand the significance of key figures and battles that shaped the United States. Through her adventures in the past and present, Betsy learns the importance of telling the truth, standing for what’s right, and never giving up. She also learns the value of helping your enemies and doing the right thing, even when it's very hard.
Readers will rally behind Betsy as she works to solve her family’s problem with a persistent enemy. She steps out of her comfort zone to work and problem-solve in ways that are creative without being destructive. Through kindness and compassion, she learns to help people work together to achieve a common goal and stand in solidarity against a ruthless and greedy enemy. Through moments of light suspense and humor, the author keeps the book fast-paced, thought-provoking, and inspirational. If your young reader enjoys the magic of time travel, American History, and heartwarming heroes, you’ll want to check out The Summer of ‘76 by Liz Bieler.