To an Independence Day past

Independence Day (yes - Independence Day...not the Fourth of July) was the holiday, other than Christmas, that I always anticipated more than any other when I was growing up.

Independence Day with the Goff family in Leavenworth, Kansas meant fireworks, burgers, hot dogs, heat (with likely accompanying humidity), a radio broadcasting baseball, watermelon and way too much sugared water of some sort. My daytime activity revolved around fireworks purchased the day before from one of the many local firework stands. Black Cat firecrackers, lady fingers, bottle rockets, snakes and smoke bombs were the menu of pyrotechnics that I would light and shoot for hours on end during the day. My mother would call me in for a respite of sandwich and Kool Aid but I quickly was back at it given the joys of smoke, sound, fire and flash.

The evening of Independence Day was spent with my uncle and aunt, cousins, and paternal grandparents. My grandfather ran the American Ice Company in downtown Leavenworth - a place where local residents went to get their block ice (back in the pre-refrigerator days of the true "ice box") and bulk purchases of soda and beer, with the latter being the 3.2 variety given our Kansas residence. Grandpa would also sell watermelon off of the loading dock at "the ice plant" (as we called it) along with other fruits and vegetables brought in for sale by local farmers and gardeners. He would work late, given the importance of this day with the above items, and show up at our family gathering toting two enormous watermelons that were always the juiciest, sweetest taste my young mouth experienced.

One year, my dad and uncle bought a mega-assortment of fireworks via a mail order house. (For you youngsters out there, eCommerce in those days consisted of a print ad seen in the local newspaper or magazine, complete with cut-out form to return, with check, to receive said items.) We all anticipated the show we'd see on that particular evening given the wide array of "night works" and assorted combustible goodies that came via the U.S. Postal Service.

Alas, my dad and uncle reached the point where they were lighting multiple items at once given the number of combustibles in the package. Their audience - my cousins, aunt, mother, grandparents and I - were fading fast given the post-burger/hot dog/chip/watermelon food coma. Their zeal for a huge fireworks show did not factor in said time and effort expended to light all of the package's fireworks.

On this Independence Day, I can't help but reminisce of that charming family scene of the 1960's - of a time no less turbulent than now given widespread discord about war and race relations but that on this particular evening was put aside to focus on family, food, fun and a country where we had the freedom to speak and do and act. It's a scene that is as clear now as it was as a young boy then. I wish that I could experience it all over again.

Have a great holiday, my friends...