Independence Day

Independence Day was probably my dad's favorite holiday. He was in charge of our town fireworks show and I think he began planning the show for the next year as soon as the final tube was pulled from the ground.

I remember going with him one year to the firework factory (I don't remember where it was, but it had to be close since it was a day trip). I stayed close as he talked to the salesperson, not understanding just what they were talking about. But, I was out with my dad for the day.

At some point prior to the holiday, our garage turned into a shop. He would build "set pieces" in our garage. I don't think those are used much anymore, and for those of you who don't know what they are, the are pieces that are put together in such a way as to make a design, or say something. I remember there was always one that was supposed to look like Niagra Falls.

Early in the morning on the 4th, dad would move everything to where the show would be held. My early memories are on an island in the middle of a nearby river. The area was turned into a sporting club with swimming pool and sat up high from the water, so it was the perfect place. Later it was moved to the town fairgrounds. After everything was moved, Dad didn't come home until after the show was over. But, he wasn't idle! He used that time to position the firing tubes. He would use a post hole digger to put the tubes into the ground. Using these tubes is what gets the bombs higher into the air. He was also protecting everything from vandalism.

At 12:00 noon he would start firing announcement bombs. You know, the ones that just explode and make a large noise, but don't have any color or design to them. He would fire one every hour until time for the show to start.

We used this day as a family day as did most people. Mom would fix a picnic for us, fried chicken, baked beans, and all the other fixin's and we would take it to dad for supper. Then we kids would play until time for the show to start.

I remember one time when the town cut the budget for the display, and then complained when it was not as elaborate as prior shows. Dad just told them they got what they paid for. After that there were no complaints about cost!

I had my first taste of beer at a firework show, and I've never liked beer since. Dad used to shoot shows for other towns on occasion. He was shooting one in the town where he worked, at the UAW union hall. After the show we found dad and he asked if I wanted a drink of his milkshake. I looked into the cup and saw thick white and took a drink. What I had seen was the foam on the beer! I don't remember if I spit it out or just made a face, but dad and his buddies thought it was quite funny!

One of our other trips was to a suburb of Chicago. I remember an older woman with only one eye telling us that she looked into a trash can that someone had thrown a firecracker in and when it exploded it blew up in her face. We assured her that dad made sure we were taught about them and that we could handle them safely. All he would let us have at that time were sparklers, sometimes ones that were 3 feet long.

The trip that stands out the most was a 2 city trip. We started out in Clarksville, IN on the 3rd and it was an uneventful, normal show. We then headed to Frankfort, KY. This year my uncle, (dad's youngest brother) and his wife were with us. Dad was driving the firework truck and had my brother and a friend with him. My uncle was driving Dad's pick-up and Mom, my sister and I were in the family car. We had a good time at the hotel pool while Dad and my uncle set up the show.

Dad used hazard flares to light the fuses. They burned for a long time without a flame and they would carry extra ones with them. My uncle had some extra ones in his pants pocket and after lighting a fuse, he turned away. I don't know if the fuse malfunctioned, or if the bomb exploded too soon after leaving the tube, but it caught the other flares on fire. He started to run when he saw fire and Dad tackled him to put the fire on his pants out. Mom and my aunt followed the ambulance to the local hospital and left us to wait for Dad. Dad finished the show and then told us to start pulling the tubes so that he could get to the hospital faster. Those things were not only hot, each explosion pushed them further into the ground! After getting everything packed up he took us back to the hotel, gave us strict orders on behavior and went to the hospital. My uncle had severe burns to his thigh that would later require several skin grafts. When he was cleared to travel, we were quite the caravan going home. Dad was in the lead with the fireworks truck, Mom was driving the pick-up with my aunt and uncle on air mattresses under the camper shell, and my sister and I were in the rear in the family car. She had recently gotten her license and we had, again, very strict orders from dad. If he went through a green light and Mom went through on yellow, we were to run it to stay together. We made it home just fine, but that always stuck with me.

Dad was looking forward to the 1976 bi-centennial celebration, but, sadly, he passed away in November of 1975. My uncle continued to shoot shows for several years, along with his son and my brother.

So, as I watch a firework show, I compare them to the ones Dad shot, and most of them don't come close. Even though many are shot by fire departments, they don't get them high enough and there doesn't seem to be any imagination to them. I've only seen one that was better than Dad's and that was within the last 10 years.

Be safe with your fireworks tonight, and think about what they represent...freedom!

Armed and Dangerous?

Been awhile since I've thought of anything to write. I have always hated finding blogs that haven't been updated for long periods of time. But, since I made no promises how often these posts would come, time passes.

My son-in-law is a certified concealed carry instructor. He and my daughter are both licensed and both almost always have their weapons with them. Getting a concealed carry license seems to be the new thing to do. Most people blame the breakdown of society as most of us know it to be the reason to get the license. 

I don't feel the need to get licensed, or to even keep a weapon in the house. Don't get me wrong, I'm not anti-gun. I was raised in a home with guns, stored openly and unlocked. My dad was a gunsmith and dealer. He was also an avid hunter and taught all of us kids to shoot. We were also taught to respect the weapon and that it was never to be used as a toy or against another person. I once asked my mother what they told us to keep us from bothering Dad's guns. She said they didn't say anything special to us. We knew that they were his and not ours and we didn't mess with things that weren't ours. My son was raised with guns that again were not secured and he didn't touch them as a child either. That's one thing that boggles my mind when I hear about a child shooting another child. Why aren't they taught that if it isn't theirs, they don't need to touch it. I guess that's the problem, we aren't teaching our children to respect the property of others.

Even after we were broken into and had our home ransacked and many items stolen, I still don't feel the need to be armed. It wouldn't have made a difference if we were armed or not, we were not at home. It would have just been another thing stolen.

I guess I'm just a fatalist. If it is my time to go, if I'm ever confronted by someone armed, it's my time. Just as I said I would not let the thieves win by being afraid to leave my house, I will not live in fear of being shot by someone who feels that is the only way to get what they want.
Maybe that's naive in this day and age, maybe not. Call me crazy, but that's the way I feel.