Celebrating the Fourth

The Fourth of July - always fun. School was out for summer, baskets of fresh tomatoes and bushels of corn appeared on the back steps from friends, and it stayed light long enough for us to play out at night until after 9 (later for those old enough to be out playing flashlight tag.)

There were, of course, the parades with soldiers from World War I and II and Korea, later Vietnam and Desert Storm. The American Legion always had the black 40 & 8 engine; the Gold Star mothers rode in an open convertible. The parade was led by the mayor and members of the city council; various other dignitaries followed. In later years a "fly-over" jet screamed over head around 11, the traditional start-time.

Floats and marchers were assembled on the off-streets up East Genesee Street (Morris Street was a popular staging area), feeding into the main parade which began around Lewis Street though you could see everybody if you gathered in front of St. Alphonsus Church. Classic cars, scouts (boy and girl), kids' baseball teams, bagpipers, stunt bicyclists, 4-H dairy princesses, school bands, service organizations, draft horses and dogs, plus the vendors selling balloons who walked along the parade route, mingled in the roads and on the front lawns waiting to take their place in line. Folding chairs blossomed along the parade root three and four deep, and the experienced arrived early, strategically parking their cars to escape the inevitable traffic jams at the end of the parade. And at the end of the parade route was a covered riser graced with red-white-and-blue bunting to shield the dignitaries from the July sun (or rain, depending) as they made their patriotic speeches by the war memorials just beyond the court house.

If the weather was fine, we always walked. From Grandma's place on Fulton Street, we'd walk downtown under the cool green trees and past the white and yellow clapboard houses and work our way up Genesee through the throngs along the north side. The best spots were in downtown proper, between North/South Streets and William Street, just below the end of the route. If we walked from Beach Ave, we mingled with the marchers on Morris or bypassed them going on Foote Street, cut through St. Alphonsus (later Blessed Trinity/St Joseph's) school, and walked down Genesee Street, stopping to chat with friends and family we met along the way.

There were always small children edging themselves further into the road, leaning way out to see if they could spot the first car coming down East Hill and around the bend. The traffic cops blocked side roads at the last minute and shooed the youngsters back to the curb, though by the time the parade had half-passed, even some grownups had parked their chairs in the road. There was always at least one enterprising soul who sold iced lemonade along the route, and the Kiwanis had hot dogs and cold drinks for sale in front of the county office building.

Once the last marchers had passed and the firetrucks sounded their siren, most of the crowd dispersed for home. Some stayed for the prayers and speeches, some - in later years - for the Kiwanis Duck Derby, their annual fundraiser, floating thousands of yellow plastic ducks down the Owasco outlet to the finish line.

The 4th at home meant hamburgers and hotdogs with potato chips and lemonade, Kool-aid or maybe soda (a treat in younger years). When it finally got dark Dad would bring us out to the back yard where he had large sparklers stuck into the ground and small ones he'd set alight with his heavy metal lighter. We got to wave the small ones around as they burned, the distinctive odor hanging in the air and small sparks leaping into the air prickling our forearms. We carefully put down the expired sparklers on the stone patio and lined up for another until Dad had exhausted his boxes. The big ones seemed to burn forever, the glow reflected on our faces. By the time they burned out, the city fireworks began shooting off at Holland Stadium a few blocks away, rising over the trees in our backyard. We could see most of them from the back bedroom window, but when we were old enough we could walk down to East High (now Middle) School and watch from the stadium itself. In later years the fireworks display was moved to Owasco Lake.

Nowadays July 4th is celebrated at the Bachmans' home, with two grills going for burgers, hot dogs and sausages, a big tent in the back yard with tables enough to seat 60, chips and dips, salads, Grandma's baked beans (thanks, Chris!) and desserts ranging from brownies to red-white-and-blue pies (cherry, apple, blueberry), plus assorted candy. Not long after the grownups have eaten - often before - the kids break out the water pistols, eventually abandoning them to simply dunk each other in the wading pool. There's badminton, soccer, touch football, and shooting hoops, with flashlight tag and a campfire after dark. If the weather gets too stifling hot or a thunderstorm comes up, everybody moved indoors to the play area in the basement for the kids and the kitchen or big screen TV in the living room for the adults.