Any freedom movement is about putting one foot in front of the other
As the United States prepares to mark 250 years of its founding, historian Anthony Cohen is walking 750 miles from Maryland to Toronto, retracing the clandestine routes of the Underground Railroad to arrive on July 4th — not as a celebration, but as a reckoning. Cohen, who first made this journey in 1996, has spent his life insisting that freedom is not a monument but a movement, and that the nation's anniversary cannot be fully understood without honoring the thousands of enslaved people who risked everything to reach it. His arrival in Canada on Independence Day is a quiet, deliberate argument: that liberty has always meant different things to different people, and that remembering honestly is itself a form of forward motion.
- A 62-year-old historian is walking 750 miles on foot to force the history of the Underground Railroad back into a national conversation that too easily forgets it.
- The tension is built into the timing itself — arriving in Toronto on July 4th reframes Independence Day as a question rather than an answer, asking who freedom was actually for.
- Cohen invited Tom DeWolf — a descendant of America's largest slave-trading family — to walk and speak alongside him, turning inherited shame into an act of public witness.
- A statue of Harriet Tubman has traveled the route with them, grounding an abstract history in a physical, undeniable presence that moves through towns and invites people to look.
- The journey is landing as both personal completion and national provocation — Cohen reaches Toronto the day the country celebrates itself, having walked the distance to remind it what that celebration is built upon.
Anthony Cohen has spent most of his adult life trying to make Americans understand what the Underground Railroad actually was — not a railroad, but a vast, secret network of routes and safe houses through which thousands of enslaved people moved north toward Canada and freedom. Now, as the country prepares to mark 250 years since its founding, Cohen is walking the path himself: all 750 miles from Sandy Spring, Maryland, to Toronto, arriving on July 4th.
This is not his first time. In 1996, Cohen traced these same footsteps from his native Maryland to Ontario, a journey that changed him and led him to found the Menare Foundation, which creates immersive historical experiences about the Underground Railroad. For this anniversary year, he wanted to make the walk visible again — to turn historical abstraction into something concrete and undeniable. 'Any freedom movement is about putting one foot in front of the other and going for it,' he said.
He has not walked alone. The Menare Foundation publicized his stops along the route, inviting people to come learn and walk beside him. A statue of Harriet Tubman has accompanied him throughout. And Cohen made a striking choice in his primary companion: Tom DeWolf, whose ancestors were the largest slave-trading family in the United States. When DeWolf hesitated — 'But I'm a White guy' — Cohen was direct: 'White people helped. You can write a new legacy for your family.' The two now speak together at events along the route about slavery, the Railroad, and what this walk means.
The timing is precise and intentional. Cohen crosses into Canada on July 1st and arrives in Toronto on July 4th — Independence Day, 250 years after the nation's founding. The walk becomes its own argument: that freedom is not a destination reached once and then forgotten, but something requiring constant, deliberate movement forward. Cohen will arrive in a foreign country on the day America celebrates itself, having walked 750 miles to remind the nation of what that celebration is actually built on.
Anthony Cohen is sixty-two years old, and he has spent most of his adult life trying to make Americans understand what the Underground Railroad actually was: not a railroad at all, but a vast, clandestine network of routes and safe houses through which thousands of enslaved people moved north toward Canada and freedom. Now, as the country prepares to mark 250 years since its founding, Cohen has decided to walk the path himself—all 750 miles of it—to force that history back into the national conversation at a moment when the nation is supposed to be reckoning with where it has come from.
This is not his first time. In 1996, Cohen made the journey from his native Maryland to Ontario, Canada, tracing the footsteps of people who had risked everything to escape bondage. That walk changed him. It led him to establish the Menare Foundation, an organization devoted to creating immersive, historically grounded experiences that teach people about the Underground Railroad and the people who traveled it. For this anniversary year, he wanted to do it again—to make the walk visible, to invite others to witness it, to turn a historical abstraction into something concrete and undeniable.
The route he has chosen runs from Sandy Spring, Maryland, to Toronto. Cohen spent considerable time with historical maps and period accounts to reconstruct the path as accurately as possible. He calls it the Freedom Walk. The journey has taken him through Delaware, New Jersey, and New York. Most of it he has done on foot, though he has also traveled by train through upstate New York, following a route that mirrors the historic passage. "Any freedom movement is about putting one foot in front of the other and going for it," he said—a simple statement that contains the whole philosophy of what he is trying to accomplish.
He has not made this walk alone. The Menare Foundation publicized his route and the places where he would stop, inviting people to come learn and walk alongside him. A statue of Harriet Tubman, the legendary conductor of the Underground Railroad, has accompanied him on the journey. And Cohen made an unusual choice in his traveling companion: Tom DeWolf, a man whose family history is bound up in the very evil the Underground Railroad was designed to escape from. DeWolf's ancestors were the largest slave-trading family in the United States. When Cohen invited him to join the walk, DeWolf hesitated. "I said, 'But I'm a White guy,'" DeWolf recalled. Cohen's response was direct: "White people helped. You can write a new legacy for your family." Now, at events along the route, the two men speak together about the history of slavery, the Underground Railroad, and what this walk means.
The arithmetic of the journey is precise and symbolic. Cohen will cross into Canada on July 1. He is scheduled to arrive in Toronto on July 4—Independence Day—exactly 250 years after the nation's founding. The timing is not accidental. It is a statement about what American independence has meant, and for whom, and what it still means to reckon with that history. The walk itself becomes a kind of argument: that freedom is not a destination you reach once and then forget about, but something that requires constant, deliberate movement forward. That it requires people to show up, to bear witness, to refuse to let the story be buried. Cohen will arrive in Toronto on the day the country celebrates itself. By then, he will have walked 750 miles to remind it of what that celebration is actually built on.
Citas Notables
Any freedom movement is about putting one foot in front of the other and going for it.— Anthony Cohen
White people helped. You can write a new legacy for your family.— Anthony Cohen, to Tom DeWolf
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why walk it now, in 2026? Why not just write another book, or make a documentary?
Because a book sits on a shelf. A documentary plays on a screen. A walk is a body moving through space, day after day, asking people to notice. When you walk 750 miles, you can't ignore it. You have to feel the distance.
But Cohen has already done this once, in 1996. What changes by doing it again?
The first time was personal—a reckoning. This time it's public, and it's timed to the nation's 250th birthday. He's saying: while you're celebrating, look at what you're actually celebrating. Look at the people who had to run to be free.
What made him invite Tom DeWolf, of all people?
Because DeWolf's family name is synonymous with American slavery. By inviting him, Cohen is saying that reckoning with this history isn't about blame—it's about transformation. DeWolf gets to rewrite what his name means. That's powerful.
Do you think people will actually show up to walk with him?
Some will. Others will ignore it entirely. But the ones who do show up will carry that walk with them. They'll understand the Underground Railroad differently after that.
What happens after July 4, when he arrives in Toronto?
The walk ends, but the work doesn't. He goes back to the Menare Foundation, back to teaching. But he's proven something: that history isn't just something you study. It's something you move through.