Once upon a time, most families were lucky if they owned one car. Many didn’t. Therefore, many people didn’t get to watch the fireworks, because no one owned a television. If you were lucky, your Dad might drive you out to the stadium to watch the fireworks. So, here’s to all the good Dads on the 4th of July who took their kids to see the show.
Moms were mostly stay-at-home, and by evening, they were washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after the day’s picnic of fried chicken (no KFC then) potato salad, deviled eggs and chocolate cake. And no air conditioning. So it was up to Dad to load the kids in the car to see the fireworks, which were sponsored by the American Legion out at the stadium
Across the street lived a widow who didn’t own a car, so we always made a place for her daughter in ours, even though it meant doubling up, and sitting on each other’s laps in the back of the old Chevie . (no seat belts in those days). We might get to the stadium right before sunset, and wait impatiently for darkness to descend. And then, wonder of wonders, that first brilliant explosion of fireworks. Breathlessly , we clapped and cheered as the rockets went off, and one after another colorful displays lit up the sky.
Dad loved the fireworks, too, but I think what he liked most was watching all the happy, awestruck children, and knowing that he had made this night possible by taking the time to drive us there. When we got back home, way past our normal bedtime, my mother would have taken off her apron and fallen asleep on the couch, waiting to hear about what we’d seen. We might have another piece of chocolate cake and a glass of milk before we finally went to bed and dreamed of fireworks.
