As a kid, every Fourth of July my brothers and I looked forward to a day of playing around the house, burgers or hot dogs, and an evening that seemed to last forever until it was dark enough to light our fireworks.

My dad bought them sometime the week before at one of the many stands set up in nearly every parking lot in front of a grocery store or on a high-traffic road. It was always fun to search through the tables of colorful packages to find our favorites.

My older brother wanted pop bottle rockets. I wanted the “Mount Vesuvius” cone that shot sparks high in the air. My middle brother searched for “Whizzers” –especially the ones that whistled when they flew looking like a flying saucer, dripping sparks. My little brother demanded sparklers–the longer, the better.

Among that treasure-trove, Dad always bought a Roman candle or two–something that was too dangerous for us to light, so that he could have his special firework moment.

Mom stood nearby reminding us to “be careful” or “watch out.” She always picked up the spent sparkler wires so that we wouldn’t accidentally step on them.

Can you believe we set off fireworks in bare feet? It was a different time, for sure!


Georgene (Dec. ’13) adds, “Setting off fireworks in the driveway is like trick-or-treating in the neighborhood-just distant memories for me and something little ones today don’t get to experience at all. I’m glad I have those experiences and memories.”

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