A Mildly Disastrous 4th

Here’s a photo from later on, in the parade years.

Like others, I have had a few run-ins with fireworks danger that could have been worse as the saying goes. Like the time when a sparking spinning type firework leapt off the driveway up into the leg of my neighbor’s shorts. After he was done jumping around flushing the thing out, we all had a laugh at the name of that particular firework--Starball Contribution.

My little town within the city used to have a homey celebration with a parade more people walked in than observed. Kids in decorated wagons threw candy along the route. Later, people would set up their lawn chairs at the bank parking lot, lighting sparklers and exploding cones until it got dark enough for the big show. It was this sense of community that people wanted a piece of that sent our property values through the sky, so that now the bank parking lot (and most of the other open spaces) have been filled with highrise luxury condominiums. Progress.

But, the 4th I’m thinking of was before all that. My oldest boy was three and excited about the firework show. He and I and his little brother, who was only a few months old, arrived on the town green early, meeting up with their grandma. My boy was a chatterbox, talking to all the people who gathered behind and around us, endearing them all to him in the way he does even now. He was so excited! As was I. We had only recently returned to the United States and he had never seen big July 4th fireworks. I hadn’t seen them in years either.

If I had, well, I would have done things differently.

Finally, finally it was dark enough to begin. The patriotic music over on the bandstand rose to a crescendo and then BAM! The first humongous explosion, right over our heads, golden and red sparks shooting out and sparkling down. My son screamed, but not in delight, in holy terror. He dove under the picnic blanket of the couple behind us, surprising us all, the sociable little boy turned scaredy cat. They laughed and tried to tell him it was okay, but he was having none of it. I had to pull his huddled self out, apologizing and also embarrassed that I didn’t foresee that he might be afraid to be so close to the pyrotechnics. Overhead, more explosions rang out. More burning sparks fell, seeming to glitter and ash right at the top of our heads.

My son began running away through the crowds of people sitting, looking up, unaware of me and his grandma, who was carrying his infant brother, chasing his little whirlwind self. When I caught him, I realized he had pooped his pants. The smell coming off him was intense. There was nothing to do, but slowly, slowly, pick our way through the crowd of people crammed together on blankets and lawn chairs. Surely there was a portable toilet somewhere? My kid wrestled to get out of my arms, not happy at being carried, not happy about the continued explosives. His grandmother, who was slower, kept getting lost among the crowd who were oblivious to us, captivated by fireworks, and not moving out of the way at all.

By the time we got home, I was exhausted and so was my dear mother-in-law. All the self-blame mothers carry had come flooding out as we stumbled through the crowd --some of it misdirected by harsh words toward my son. When things cooled down, after my oldest boy was bathed and changed and we’d all had some tall glasses of ice water, I sat on the couch and knew it was myself I was really upset with. Why hadn’t I realized that the fireworks might be too intense from our “front row” vantage point? Had my son even seen fireworks like that before, ever? Why had I not realized that he would think the whole world was blowing up?

By the next day I was able to shake my head and laugh. Credit here too to my mother-in-law who told me not to be so hard on myself--after all, she hadn’t thought twice about any of it either. Like me, she’d thought it would be a good time. My son, like other kids, eventually enjoyed blowing things up and going to the big local fireworks show. But neither he nor I forgot that one time. Just a few days ago we were laughing about it, agreeing that it was truly awful.