Hollywood directors have done justice enough to the language issued this day in 1776: They could hardly miss with a cry for rights to "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness" and the Declaration of Independence's final words ratified by 56 men who "mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."

The declaration from the Second Constitutional Congress lays a bill of particulars at the feet of Britain's George III — their king — tossing off terms such as "tyrants" and accusing him of abdicating government "by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us."

This was treason against their government, their country, their empire — so the language about laying lives and fortunes on the line wasn't idle scorn toward a proven-brutal establishment; retribution was sure to follow.

And that's where the movies fall short: Patriot and so many of its predecessors portray gallantry amid blood and thunder, but for many of the heroes of July 4, reality was far grimmer.

Over the years, investigative historians have confirmed that five of them were tortured to death; nine others died of wounds or disease during the seven years of fighting that followed this glorious day in history. The British burned down the homes of a dozen or so.

These were generally prosperous people to be putting so much at risk: Virginia's Carter Braxton, for example, lost his ships, hocked his home and died deep in poverty. Thomas McKean, too, impoverished himself. So did John Hart, driven from his dying wife's bedside, his dozen children scattered and soon to die in despair.

And at the decisive battle of Yorktown, five years into the war — or six, if you figure it started in 1775 with Paul Revere's ride — Thomas Nelson Jr. found his home occupied by the British General Cornwallis. Fire away at it, he advised George Washington. The place was destroyed.

Lives lost. Fortunes forfeited. Souls crushed. Courage came with a high price, for the declaration's signers, for the 10,000 American dead or wounded and for so many others whose homes and farms became battlegrounds.

Those are people well worth a pause for thought today — these 233 years later, when the Fourth of July so often is seen simply as one of our nation's three three-day holiday weekends.

As John Adams, another signer from 1776 ,would soon say, July 4 "ought to be solemnized," he said, "with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward, forevermore."

Guns have given way to fireworks, which will be set off just after dark from Santa Fe High School's football field — and this morning, we hope you're reading this over breakfast in good company: The 34th Annual Pancakes on the Plaza, kicking off United Way of Santa Fe County's fund drive, is going on until noon.

We wish you a joyous "Fourth!"