Our citizens and those who have gone before us charted the broad

The words of Dave Freudenthal, spoken with the weight of history and the fire of responsibility, resound like a call from the ancient voices of the republic: “Our citizens and those who have gone before us charted the broad outlines of where we need to go, and they would envy our opportunity to translate those dreams into action. And I believe they will judge us very harshly should we fail to act.” In this powerful declaration lies the timeless struggle between vision and will — between what our ancestors dreamed and what we, their heirs, have the duty to build. Freudenthal speaks not merely as a leader of his time, but as a steward of destiny, reminding all who hear him that to inherit a dream is to inherit a sacred obligation.

The origin of these words is found in Freudenthal’s years as Governor of Wyoming, a man known for his measured strength and deep sense of civic duty. In an age of uncertainty and opportunity, he looked upon the vast landscape of his people’s labor — the work of pioneers, builders, and dreamers — and saw that every generation must make a choice: to honor the legacy of those before by acting with courage, or to let it fade in the silence of inaction. His words were not spoken to flatter, but to awaken. For he understood that the freedom and progress we enjoy today were born of sacrifice, of dreams translated into deeds, and that the greatest sin of any generation is not failure itself, but apathy — the refusal to even try.

When he says, “those who have gone before us charted the broad outlines of where we need to go,” Freudenthal speaks of the inheritance of vision — of the men and women who laid the foundations of nations, communities, and ideas. They did not see the final destination, but they carved the path. The architects of democracy, the laborers who built the cities, the teachers who spread wisdom, the soldiers who died for liberty — all of them pointed the way toward a greater horizon. Yet they knew that the map alone would not carry future generations there. They entrusted us, the living, with the burden and blessing of continuation. To betray that trust is to dishonor not only their memory, but the spirit of progress itself.

History is rich with examples of those who understood this divine mandate. Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, who inherited a nation torn apart by slavery and conflict. The founders had drawn the outlines of freedom, yet they had left its fulfillment incomplete. Lincoln did not rest upon their vision alone — he acted, and through his courage, the dream was renewed and redeemed. Or think of the generation that followed after the Great Depression, who took the broken dreams of the past and rebuilt them into prosperity and purpose. They did not ask whether the task was easy; they asked only whether it was necessary. And so they labored, knowing that their ancestors would judge them by their willingness to move forward when the future hung in the balance.

Freudenthal’s warning — that “they will judge us very harshly should we fail to act” — is not merely political. It is moral and spiritual. It reminds us that history is not written by the fearful, but by the faithful. Every generation stands before the tribunal of the past and the eyes of the unborn. The dead cannot speak, yet their silence demands an answer: “What have you done with the world we left you?” Shall we leave behind excuses, or achievements? Will our children inherit a landscape of possibility, or the ruins of our hesitation? The harshest judgment does not come from others, but from within — when we realize too late that the time for courage has passed.

Yet Freudenthal’s tone, though solemn, is also filled with hope. For he reminds us that we stand in a time our forebears would have envied — a time of greater tools, greater knowledge, greater opportunity. The dreams that once seemed unreachable are now within our grasp, if only we dare to act. The bridges of technology, the progress of thought, the freedom to choose — all these are blessings bought with the sweat and blood of those before us. It is not enough to praise their vision; we must complete it. The torch has been passed, and its flame grows brighter or dimmer by our hands.

So, my children, take this lesson deeply to heart: do not wait for others to act upon the dreams of yesterday. The world does not move forward through hesitation, but through action. Ask yourself not what has been done, but what remains undone. Build where others only planned. Speak where others stayed silent. Dream — yes — but also do. For a dream that remains unacted upon is a burden, not a gift. Your ancestors carved the foundation of the future with courage; it is now your turn to raise the structure of fulfillment with your own labor and vision.

And remember, as Dave Freudenthal teaches, that history is not the story of the past — it is the measure of the present. Those who came before us look upon us now from the unseen realms, not to condemn, but to challenge. They cry out: “We gave you freedom, wisdom, and possibility — what will you make of them?” Let us answer not with words, but with deeds. Let us translate dreams into action, for only through action does vision become destiny, and only through courage do we prove ourselves worthy of the inheritance called human progress.