THE FOURTH OF JULY

Despite the novelty of living in a state that has no problem with the general populace using fireworks (any time of the year, in fact), in the four years we’ve been in South Carolina the one thing I’ve missed the most has been the fourth of July fireworks.
Oh, there are plenty of explosions and bright lights all week long each year, but always just a road away, in someone’s driveway, hidden by the trees, or unseen by the time the bang lets one know that another one was set off. Always looking a little too late, or in the wrong direction, or just seeing a hint of color. Nothing like the displays we had up north, in a state where fireworks are regulated and scheduled.
Every year, despite the threat of rain (or actual rain) we would pack up the kids, some food, chairs, and a blanket and head for Cantine Field in Saugerties, NY. Traffic would always be backed up and we’d look for a back way to a place to park that wasn’t too far from the field. Chairs would be the old fashioned beach kind that folded flat, but would bang against your legs as you walked, and take up an arm if you tried to carry more than one, which you always did while trying to balance them with the cooler, or blanket or a child’s hand. Looking around to see if there was anyone you knew to set up a blanket near. Finding the perfect spot, and making sure everyone had some idea where it was before running off to see who else was there and what else there was to see.
A few of those years included coming early in the day for the parade, often being a part of it. Then spending the day on the field; either doing a demo for the SCA or walking around looking at all the other exhibitions before going home to get ready for the nights fireworks display. In either case, it was the firework that I missed so much.
Last year we spent the fourth in Florida, visiting Bill’s parents. We drove down to a park along the river hoping to find a good display, but it was not unlike here, just people setting off personal fireworks. Again, swiveling the head to try and catch something to recall that exhilaration of a good firework display, but leaving feeling betrayed and at a loss for not recovering some joy in the evening.
Two years ago we were driving back from Florida on the fourth and only caught hints of color as we sped along, not belonging to any community that partook of the ceremonies that I never knew I held so dear.
But this morning my neighbor called and invited us over for an evening of fireworks. Their house has a yard that slopes down to the pond and they usually put on a party and display. This year they realized it wouldn’t be neighborly to leave us out of the festivities. Oh how much it has meant to me!
Of course, Bill was working on his car and didn’t get finished until dark, so we missed any of the socializing and got there after the works had started. We set up our chairs (the newfangled kind that fold up and go in a tube that you can wear over your shoulder, how convenient) at the back of the crowd and I just leaned back and took it all in. I am still grinning. I’ve never been so close and the show was wonderful. It made me feel so happy.
One thing that disturbed me is the realization that this is a replication of a war battle! Somewhere there are men (and women) who are experiencing the real thing, and somehow that chilled me. For just a moment. Then I just watched and enjoyed, figuring I could philosophize later.