by Heather Myer
When I was a child, my parents used to celebrate the Fourth of July by
watching fireworks on the television and microwaving hotdogs. At the
time, they simply said that they did not want to fight the crowds at
Firefall and that waiting in long lines for port-a-potties never made
for fun times. Rebelling, I would steal away to my bedroom, read the
Declaration of Independence and sing the Star Spangled Banner over lit
candles. An odd sense of jealousy consumed me on the fifth of July when
my friends sported super snazzy glow in the dark bracelets and bragged
of setting off bottle rockets without parental supervision. I vowed
that when I was a parent, my children would have fireworks year round,
long lines for the facilities or no.
As a young adult, I have completely disregarded my parents’ cautious
approaches to Independence Day. I wildly attend Firefall and the I Love
America celebrations with my friends as often as possible in
Springfield. One year, my friends and I set off our own fireworks on
the outskirts of Republic and had quite the jolly time refining our
pyromaniac prowess.
As Independence Day drew near this year, I wondered what fun times were
in store for me. The answer came during a Springfield Cardinal’s game
as roughly seven of LifePoint’s young adults congregated around two
community snow cones: hang out at Mark Pitchford’s home. It was
perfect. Mark had a grill, a cozy living room, a spacious lawn, and
perhaps the most important item of all, a neighborhood swimming pool.
LifePoint’s young adults gathered at the Pitchford residence at roughly
three in the afternoon for a lazy afternoon of feasting on watermelon,
cherries, and sweets. Andrea provided sugar cookies in the shapes of
stars, shooting rockets, and Liberty Bells for the occasion, and we all
contributed money to a fund for community groceries. While Heather,
Andrea, Sunshine, Mary, and Amber purchased dinner, the others played
frisbee in the front yard. There were too many participants in the
frisbee game to be contained by the lawn, so we increased our territory
and took over the vast majority of the street. Frisbee tossing is an
exact science. One must calculate the intensity and direction of the
wind, as well as one’s personal capability to throw with accuracy. In
my case, I always have to consider the position of the person I am
throwing to and aim 2 people to the left in order to reach my intended
target. Our frisbee game changed a bit from catching the plastic saucer
to tallying how many of our cars we could accidentally hit. It was
quite enjoyable.
The ladies returned with groceries and the rest of us peaked into the
sacks to discover a Mexican feast. An assembly line of chefs prepared
our meal: The ladies assembled cheese and chicken between tortillas,
Dallas brought the plate to Matt and Mark for grilling, and the rest of
us finished off the final results. Soon, we were treated to chips and
salsa, grilled beef and chicken quesadillas, refried beans, taco salad,
and fresh fruit. During the food preparation, I soon discovered that
there were too many cooks in the kitchen, so I joined Geno, Bryant, and
Jon for card games. I relived the joys of Go Fish and discovered how to
play Egyptian Rat Screw, of which the purpose is to possess all the
cards in your hand by the end of the game. A card may be sandwiched
with two cards of the same number and then whoever smacked the pile
first would gain possession of the discarded pile. Amy and Paul joined
our game by slapping at the pile while the rest of us idled, oblivious
to the repeated numbers. The boys taught me three important lessons: it
hurts to have your hand smacked, never lay your cards face-up on the
table, and avoid practicing a poker face, no matter how innocent your
intentions may have been.
After dinner, the group gathered in the back yard for a sparkling
streamer ribbon routin contest. Mary, Sunshine, and Andrea judged as
some of us performed clever skits. Jon and Paul reenacted Wind and
Water and were awarded Most Creative.
Amber pranced around Heather, and though she seemed unphased and
unmoved by Amber’s dance, Amber persisted. Soon, Heather was inspired
by Amber’s creativity and joined her frolicking. They were awarded with
Most Bootylicious. Amy and I appealed to the judges by singing“You Are My Sunshine” and offering a cheer for Andrea. Our efforts
earned the title of Best at Brownnosing.
It was now early evening and the sun became less intense. Our group
gathered at the pool for splashing in the water, rounds of Marco-Polo,
and creative diving by the men. We observed pair diving, pair diving
with ribbon, cannon balls, belly flops, artistic water entries,
individual diving with ribbon, and end of the pool races. It was a
refreshing way to spend the last remaining rays of sun. After drying,
we parted into smaller groups to seek out fireworks.
Mark, Paul, Jon, Jeff, Sunshine, Amy, Andrea, and I joined the Gibbons
family and Ravonne in the Furniture Row parking area to observe the I
Love America celebration. Once we laid our blankets and lawn chairs
down on a blocked road, we began calling out names for the explosions
and humming along with the choir. We prefaced our titles with clever
beginning phrases, “I call that one Wind and Water” or “I name that one
Istanbul (is not Constantinople).” Though I cannot now recall many of
the names we suggested, it provided us with several moments of
entertainment. We fell silent, awed by the spectacular array of lights
against the black sky. As the celebration ended, we rushed back to our
respective cars, and soon my car joined the stillness of a long line of
traffic. Alone for the first time that evening, I became keenly aware
of the silence and serenity of the night. I praised God for blessing me
with life, liberty, and good friends with whom to pursue my happiness.
Labels: articles, heather myer, young adults
