Fire Works, Now and Then

As this is The Week of Independence, well, not really a week, just a day, but, we set off fireworks for days before and after the 4^th, so kinda A Week of Independence, sort of… At any rate, I tried to think of something to post that would have relevance to the 4^th of July. I cycled through military possibilities, childhood options, and even some superhero exploits. None really seemed to fit. However, the next few weeks should be fun—‘cause now I have a line-up.

Still, I needed a story for this week, for the 4^th of July but posted on the 5^th of July. A delay. A delay…? A delay! I had it.

I was about fourteen years old. My friend, Aaron, had a home that would provide a perfect view of the big to-do. This was going to be good. Real good.

Aaron’s father was a contractor. And, as such, he would build a home, the family would live in it for a year or so, then, after another home was built, they would move into that one. I don’t know if they did that as a trial-and-error sort of thing, or if they did that to test what they liked and didn’t like about a home and its floorplan. Whatever it was, Aaron moved around a few times while we were friends. Yet, this new home location was a spot that the mother was particularly excited about. The new location had an unobstructed view of the Manti Temple—I had one from my home, my room especially, I loved that view—and a great lookupon of the mountain to the East side of town. Their new house was a good house.

As it seems to do every year, July 4^th came around. It was time for fireworks and fun. I’m sure patriots of any nation that has an Independence Day, understand the pride that is felt when the birthday of their beloved nation rolls around. I love this country. I love celebrating the 4^th. I also love blowing things up. Always have. Boom baby.

I’m a little off-point. Sorry.

It was another 4^th, like any other 4^th. Personal fireworks had been purchased and most of them had been set off. It was nearing the time for the town of Manti to shoot off the big event fireworks. You know, the big ones that rain all that glorious shower of sparks all over. Those are always fun to watch. And, the best part was Aaron’s house had a perfect view of the launch site. Remember that mountainside? That Eastern slope? Yup. I’ve mentioned it at least once. Well, that’s where the sparky-sparky-boom-booms were going to come from. For reasons that I cannot recall, the firework show was to be early in the evening. I want to say it was to be 6:00. But that doesn’t sound right. The daylight was still streaming about—it was summer, so that doesn’t really help.

The time isn’t what’s important. What’s important is the time. (I know what I wrote)

Like I mentioned before, the time for the first big boom was looming like the soon-to-be spark-show shower. Aaron, his brothers, and I were playing with some smalltime firecrackers in the dirt between their driveway and the road. “It’s time.” The announcement brought with it great joy. All the small stuff came to an abrupt halt. It was time for the big guns. The spark shower. The fire in the sky. The… uh… The fireworks. Aaron and I had been allowed to sit on top of the cab of his dad’s work truck. It was the highest point in the surrounding area. People had been bringing their chairs—and setting them up in the street for a good view of that night’s event—for hours. Now, if some of you are worried about the people in the street, don’t.

In a small town such as Manti, everyone knows the deal. There are plenty of other roads to use to get where you’re going. You can use other paths. The place was simple. Kinda Andy Griffith Mayberryish, if you understand my meaning. Setting up chairs in the road for a short, town-focused event was common. During larger events, that would never happen. Earlier I mentioned that the town ‘was’ simple because I don’t know if it still is. From the family and friends I have that still live there, the reports are that it has become slightly more complicated—politically and otherwise.

Regardless, Aaron and I had the perfect seats. However, the rule was, if you left, anybody else could claim your spot. There were only two seats.

The first of soon-to-be many fireworks launched proudly, majestically into the (if my research is correct) Troposphere. Up, up, up it went. BOOM! The echoing of the explosion hadn’t even finished before the crowd had begun their whoops and hollers, the cheers and whistles. The sparkling stardust drifted downward. The evening’s spectacle had finally begun! Then came the next one.

Then came the next one.

Then came the next one.

Then came the next one…?

Ahem. I said: Then came the next one.

Where was the next one? There was no next one. Fine, a delay is fine. Delays happen. There’ll be a next one—any second now. Any second now.

There’ll be a next one. Any second now…

“Is there going to be a next one?” Aaron’s youngest brother was asking anyone who may be listening to him. Nobody knew.

Now, a minute or two would be acceptable. Regardless of how much effort and preparation one may make, sometimes, stupid problems just show up. It appeared that that was the case, all those years ago.

Minutes quickly turned into many minutes. Many minutes slowly turned into lots of many minutes. Lots of many minutes turned into a whole bunch of wasted time.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting and wondering, we children—some teens and a few of the adults—had become restless. Aaron and I didn’t want to vacate our precious perch, still, we wanted to finish igniting our pocket-sized sparky-sparky-boom-booms. But, if we walked away from our seats, his brothers or sister might take them—that was the rule. And yet, it was becoming almost unbearable to just sit and wait and do nothing (no cell phones kids. you read that correctly). Was there actually going to be a show? And, if we put flame to fuse, there wasn’t anywhere we could leave them—there were people everywhere. Everywhere.

As a child, you don’t know things. Things like how big-people fireworks operate. My fireworks used a fuse. I figured that the adult fireworks just used the same principle—for years cartoons showed me that’s how things were done. I didn’t know that there are several precautions and complex arrangements made for an event that appears to be nothing more than simplicity in sparkly sparks.

I have never known what happened that night to cause the delay. The show started at the exact time the local newspaper said it would—Aaron’s father checked. What I do know is that after about an hour and a half, the show resumed. Sparky-sparky-boom-booms went up and glittered all about the evening sky. It was spectacular. A 4^th of July not to be forgotten.