Rhode Island was tiny, like the table at a party that only fits two people. They had a sweet setup: a popular currency that let farmers and debtors breathe easy. Then the other states started talking about a strong national government, and Rhode Island’s leaders basically said, “Nope, that sounds like overreach.”
Imagine your neighbor proposing a neighborhood watch that can search your fridge at any time. That’s how Rhode Island felt about the Constitution. They preferred their own little bubble, thank you very much. It was like ordering a simple coffee and the barista says, “We’re redesigning the entire menu—and you have to use our new mug.”
So they literally didn’t show up. No delegates, no apologies, just a long, awkward silence. The other states probably sent passive-aggressive notes: “We saved you a seat.”
