4th of Julys

By Cliff Lowell

The Fourth of July was a quieter time for my family when I was growing up in the 1930s and 40s. We had sparklers, a Roman candle or two, and cards of little firecrackers. To make them last longer, we crafted airplanes, attached firecrackers to them, lit them, and tossed them into oblivion. We also put firecrackers under tin cans and sent them aloft.

We often joined the rest of Grandpa Lowell's family at his home or the Gibbon, Nebraska park. Everybody contributed to the picnic meal so there was a lot of food to eat. We cousins competed in distance, three-legged, and sack races. Sometimes there would be a softball game. There was playground equipment and a wading pool to enjoy when we met in the park. 

We lived on a farm some thirteen miles from Kearney, but Dad wouldn't take us to see the fireworks show there. I would climb the ladder on the windmill to watch the skyrockets go off. They were miniature puffs of color above the horizon but still sated my desire a bit.

When I was ten we moved two miles closer to Kearney. Now I could observe the fireworks from a more comfortable spot, an upstairs bedroom window.  But the skyrocket blasts didn't appear much larger.

After my parents quit farming, we moved to Kearney. At age fifteen I finally got to see the fireworks up close. How splendid they looked from that advantage point! We could also see fireworks neighbors were igniting. 

Seward, Nebraska, where I now live is a July Fourth City with day-long festivities from 7:00 a.m. to a fireworks display at dark. I have been involved in this celebration since moving here in 2012. I have sat on the hillside a couple of times to see a magnificent light show. Beyond that, I can still see the spangled tops of the skyrockets and neighborhood fireworks from my windows. That satisfies my childhood longing for a close-up view. 

Excerpted from The Early Years by Clifford E. Lowell