Celebrations, by definition, should be fun. My favorite celebration is the Fourth of July and has been since my early childhood. The reason is fireworks!

Nothing recalls my childhood like the smell of black powder. I grew up in a small mid-western city of around 40,000. It was the county seat, and as such, the hub of the few goings-on in the small factory town. It was a car town, a mini Detroit, boasting a Delco Radio plant and a Chrysler transmission plant, along with a smattering of other smaller industrial enterprises, but the automobile was the center of life there, make no mistake.

Possibly due to this kinship with the automobile, the town had a small oval racetrack just outside town on the north side. Simply called the “Speedway”, it was a dirt track, running stock cars and quarter midgets. There were the usual demolition derbies too .It was a raucous and rowdy place and my parents, rather reluctant to expose their children to this, did not take us often.

The one-day we could look forward to attending the Speedway was the Fourth of July! The Speedway had the best Fourth of July fireworks in the county, drawing people from all the little farming communities that dotted the table flat landscape.

The last race on the card was the demolition derby, a fitting precursor to crash of fireworks to follow. Excitement built as the cars slammed into each other, deck lids popped open like jack-in-the-box toys, fenders screamed in pain from gashes inflicted by intentional collisions, and clouds of steam billowed from crushed radiators. The conflagration continued until only one car remained that was capable of crossing the finish line. Great fun!

The crowd hushed as announcer’s voice crackled over the tinny public address system, “The fireworks display will commence at 10:00 o’clock”. The crowd stirred and hummed with anticipation while wreckers cleared the twisted, smoking hunks of metal from the track. When the track’s lights were extinguished, the headlights of cars searching for parking spots along the highway that formed the eastern border continued to illuminate the great dusty clouds the derby had kicked up. For them, it was a free show! The pancake flat landscape could not hide the spectacle from anyone who cared to watch.

At exactly 10:00 o’clock the cool evening air was permeated by a soft thud as the first shell leapt from its mortar. A second later the velvet night was vanquished with a light so bright you could see the faces of the crowd, slack-jawed, staring up at the clear night sky. A thunderous explosion immediately followed this pulse of blue-white light. The shock wave was felt deep in your chest leaving no doubt the fireworks had begun. Thump! Thump! Thump! Three more shells rocketed skyward, reached their apogee and exploded into a cascade of oranges, blues, greens and reds, filling the night sky with colors, merging like neon paint on a heavenly canvas.

The crowd’s collective ooohs and aaahs were punctuated by more thuds and thumps as shell after shell pierced the night sky, painting and repainting that familiar canvas. The acrid smoke mingled with the prairie dust and filled the air with a wondrous perfume that transports me back to the “Speedway” the instant I catch a whiff.

Author Bio: Ronald Fisackerly does a lot of article writing for Skylighter. Skylighter sells flying lanterns and fireworks as well as a variety of other items.

Category: Entertainment
Keywords: fireworks display, fourth of July,celebration