The Fourth of July

I’ve been fortunate to have had a lot of different Fourth of July experiences in my lifetime.

I’ve watched from a bluff at the base of the Rocky Mountains as fireworks exploded over a lake in Colorado. I’ve watched fireworks from the beaches along Lake Michigan. I’ve watched fireworks from mall parking lots. In big cities and small towns.

But last night may go down as one of the most memorable one for its pure simplicity.

We decided to stay home and watch all the fireworks shows we could find on TV.

We watched the show in Washington, D.C. … That and watching Phillip Phillips perform “Home,” in the moment, was pure Americana.



When that was over, we turned the channel to see the fireworks in Manhattan. Then in Kansas City at Union Station. And finally, with the Boston Pops.

Later, as Kates was getting Phoebe ready for bed, I stepped outside on our deck and watched more fireworks explode above over the tree line. Someone apparently was shooting them off near the pond on the university campus.

On a side note …

How about what happened in San Diego last night? It was all over the Internet today.

It reminded me immediately of what happened in Duluth several years ago … Our family experienced that show, too. Sort of. Actually, from what I remember, we were across the bay watching the fireworks in Superior. It was a beautiful night and we were waiting for the show to start when there was some kind of explosion, but nobody seemed to think much of it and our show went on.

What I remember more vividly was the traffic and the trouble we had getting out of the city and tying it later to all the people trying to get out of Duluth while the emergency vehicles were trying to get in. We had been camping at a state park near Superior, and I remember watching the news reports of the Duluth mishap and the images of the fires on our black and white TV when we returned to our camper.

Fourth of July memories.