Celebration!

You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.
-Erma Bombeck

It's a quiet fourth for me this year, no Flathead Lake - Hubby is at work, the NorDak crew are happily at the lake in North Dakota, the California Dreamin' crew are on the Pacfic Coast, and the Chick is enjoying peace and quiet after a very patriotic show of fireworks this spring while the legislators were visiting her town. So I have time to pause and reflect on 4ths gone by....

Dad and I on a boat ride

I suspect that my favorite fourth of July celebrations will be the times in my childhood when we spent them on the beach. It was at least a two family endeavor with my aunt and her family living next door. Sometimes my father's sister and her family would be there and other times my Great Aunt Kit would be visiting.

Aunt Verna visiting from Utah

I remember the day was filled with anticipation and waiting for the big event in the evening. There was a wash tub filled with ice and Shasta pop and we were allowed to drink as much pop as we wanted. A great thing for my brothers and I because we only had pop on the Fourth and New Year's Eve. (Do you remember: "It hasta be Shasta!"?)

Steve, Mary, Me, Bob, and Kit

Along about sunset a bonfire would be started, the hotdogs, chips (another luxury) and marshmallows would be brought out. The kiddos were allowed to use sparklers. Usually one child was slightly burned and rushed off to my aunt's kitchen for an ice cream cone to soothe them. When it was completely dark the big fireworks would begin. As far as I know it was an unspoken neighborhood rule that only one family at a time could light their fireworks. From the navy fuel depot to the small town of Manchester all sorts of roman candles would shoot out over the water, the sound echoing out over the water. Big old rumbling wooden cabin cruisers would drop anchor just out of reach of the fireworks and as the property owners shot their fireworks, the people on the boats would shoot theirs. It was quiet a sight!

Dad, me, Mike, and Steve (In their beachcombers and blue Hawaiian shirts)