My first recollections of the 4th of July will never be matched. My parents, myself, and my 3 younger sisters lived above Pup-Pup and Aunt Betty's home in the small town of Tarentum, Pa. It ran along the Allegheny River and thus was the perfect location for a steel mill. I grew up in a true working class community but thought that I was rich beyond compare. Since Dad had 9 brothers and sisters and Mom had 6, our neighborhood was fairly populated with relatives. There had to be a birthday celebration somewhere which always meant a home-made cake at someone's home or backyard.
But the best birthday celebration was Uncle Sam's. We lived on 2nd Avenue and the park, with old cannons and a bandstand, was located across 1st Avenue by the river. We would load up the Coleman with Dad's homemade Root Beer (except for the ones that exploded in the cellar) and Mom's iced spiced bars and walk over early to get a prime spot on the lawn. Since Mom had washed and hung the blankets "on the line", the freshness was intoxicating and something I, to this day, have not been able to duplicate. Fireworks were set off across the river on a little hill. We enjoyed time with family and with friends. Although we tend to romanticize the past, these memories are very real and very precious. It was a simpler time. I wish I understood then just how lucky I was. Fireworks became a special memory.
Move forward to adulthood. Never, ever, for one moment, think that a one year old may enjoy bright lights in the sky. Oh, no. Even though my sister invited us to a club with a smaller crowd and with unlimited ice cream, there seemed to be more duds than fireworks that night. You know what I mean - the light projects into the sky and just leaves a loud noise. Peter, our poor 1 year old guinea pig, begins to scream unconsolably and my father runs to his rescue with shaking hands. Dad was a WW II vet and suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. He could not tolerate the duds either. They walked into the parking lot and Peter was comforted in Dad's arms. Thank you, Dad. Your bravery in disarming mines in Germany helped individuals realize freedom. Fireworks became a symbol of bravery.
Now we move forward to the city of Shaker Heights, known "for the schools it keeps". Since we chose to send our children to a public school, it was a great decision. And who knew? The fireworks on the 4th were spectacular and drew crowds from neighboring communities. We would pack up blankets (minus that magical scent) and canned pop and water and would drive to the Middle School and set up our site. Often times my sisters and their families would join us. If there was some new techno surprise, be assured it was included in the display. Fireworks became obligatory because you didn't want to miss the latest advancement in chemical reactions.
Fast forward to 2 weeks ago. It was announced that there would be no fireworks in Shaker Heights. I understand that the concern for "community safety" was the contributing factor. Safety concerns? Unfortunately, one can speculate just what that refers to. Did someone get injured and, therefore, sue the city? Well, that certainly is possible. We have become a nation whose decisions are influenced by lawsuits and by being Politically Correct. It was never a mindset in my younger days. Or, it could be the influence of unruly crowds that made it difficult for others to enjoy this public celebration. Either way, it makes me angry that a few can effect such an outcome. Fireworks became political.
Then there was yesterday. My 4th began with no expectations. I stopped looking for the magic long ago. But then, when you least expect it, the telephone rings.
My son's in-laws invited us to enjoy the fireworks from their driveway. A club across the street was putting on a display despite many other communities following Shaker's ban.
We arrived to fresh fruit, homemade Mandelines, and pop and water. A table and folding chairs were set up in the driveway. My guinea pig son, Peter, who now loves fireworks, sprayed so much bug spray on himself that I almost peed my pants. But it was a beautiful Citronella scent. Just as delightful as Mom's blankets. And we sat there with my new extended family enjoying the fireworks. It was truly a 360. Fireworks again became a beautiful memory. Thank you.
