A Happy Fourth of July is Not Just a Big Bang Theory

What do you stand for on your nation's independence day?

The explosion was quick, loud, and burning hot. My whole body jerked out of fear and discomfort. I had never felt such pain in my 11 years of life.

In that flash I realized the firecracker had gone off in my hand.

“Oh Judi go play with those nasty things somewhere else. We’re trying to plan the Fourth of July party at the lakes,” Mom said as she stood in front of my godmother Billie’s car in which Billie sat in the driver’s seat.

I winced, held back tears, and grinned sheepishly to cover up the growing pain. I didn’t want Mom to know I had just detonated a Lady Finger in my little fingers.

After all, just this year I had graduated from swirling sparklers that had been pre-lit by parents and from using a punk to activate black pellets called “Snakes.” When lit, the pellet “grew” by turning to ash in a form that looked like a snake. Sparklers. Snakes. Yeah. I know. B-o-r-i-n-g.

But what a dumb and potentially disastrous mistake I had just made with a firecracker. How the heck did it happen?

Well, I had secretly placed the firecracker under the left rear tire of Billie’s car. I thought when it exploded that she and Mom would think Billie’s car just got a flat. Holy crap. What a funny joke.

But after lighting the fuse, I waited for what seemed a lot of time—probably only 30 seconds—then I became agitated that the Lady Finger was still just lying there.

So I picked it up.

I was walking around the back end of Billie’s car when the firecracker exploded.

I was lucky to not lose any fingers to that lingering Lady Finger that day. But my theory that the Fourth of July is more than just about firecrackers goes beyond my big bang in 1969.

Let’s move to 1976, when I was fortunate to be a part of the Shanley High School Band when we marched in the Fargo, ND and Moorhead, MN parade as part of the United States Bicentennial celebrations.

It was a hot July day in Fargo. Shanley band members wore special bicentennial red and white t-shirts that we paired with our own blue shorts or slacks. I selected a bold pair of blue short shorts.

Thank goodness we didn’t have to wear the normal Shanley High School marching band garb. I would have melted. To see how heavy those band uniforms were, take a look below at a frame from a 1976 home movie of a fall parade in which our marching band was performing. You can see that while patriotic, those uniforms would have been idiotic in 90+ degree weather.

With sharp, high steps, our band marched a couple of miles because it was an historic day and the parade stretched from Fargo across the Main Avenue Bridge over the Red River into Moorhead to accommodate bicentennial celebrants in both states. I can’t remember the tunes we belted out during our jaunty saunter, but I’m pretty sure they included “America the Beautiful” and “God Bless America.”

It was a festive, memorable event. Hundreds of people lined the streets. My Aunt Patsy was visiting from Blaine, Washington. Patsy and my mom carried a slug of kids in our 1971 Ford van to watch me and the El Zagel clowns play in the parade.

However, even for a young, healthy whipper snapper with a t-shirt and short shorts, I remember it was a pretty grueling few hours of marching in the hot, humid weather. After the parade, the plan was for me to meet up with Mom and her vanload of family in the parking lot of the Fargo Civic Center. And so after the Shanley band disbanded, I marched on toward the Stoa van. I smiled and waved at the overloaded automobile, but no one waved back.

As I got within 20 feet of the vehicle, suddenly, my mom started the van and drove out of the parking lot.

“Oh hahaha. Funny joke,” I thought. “I can hear them inside the car. Oh ho ho, let’s see if Judi can run with her trumpet after trodding miles in a parade.”

“Oh ho ho.”

“Ho.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Hey, hey! Mom! Wait for me!” I yelled and waived my golden horn when they had driven a block away.

It was to no avail.

The top of my head heated up as if I was securely belted under my big Shanley band helmet.

I stood alone in the quickly emptying parking lot in the middle of downtown Fargo. With only one option to get back to our house on 17th Avenue South and 14 ½ Street, I began to slowly march in my red and white bicentennial t-shirt and short blue shorts, holding my trumpet at my side.

“I’m sure Mom and Aunt Patsy are hooting it up with stories about the grand time they just had,” I grumbled to myself and swung my trumpet even more strictly and moved into double-time.

With a cadence that usually only came from following a strong drum major, I continued on my journey, and imagined Mom and Patsy in the front seats laughing and talking, oblivious to the half dozen kids packed in the back who were playing, socking each other, laughing, and crying. And of course, oblivious to me, a participant in the Fargo-Moorhead Bicentennial Parade.

By the time I finally reached home about an hour later, I had lost my high-step along with one of my trumpet's marble valve caps. I marched in the front door, and my mom and Patsy stopped their banter and stared at me, finally figuring out what had happened.

Picture Ralphie in “A Christmas Story” when he stands indignantly as his parents cry and ask forgiveness for making him blind from soap poisoning. I stood similarly with my nose in the air as Mom and her sister half laughingly, apologized for leaving me behind.

Today, I choose to laugh at the high and low notes from my Fourth of July memories. And in this year with high and low notes from the pandemic and social awakenings, I choose to pray for the thousands who have died and millions sickened by Covid -19. I choose to stand for equality for all. I choose to celebrate this day in which our land became the United States of America. And I choose, because in America, I can choose.

I take pride in, and am amazed by, how our founders scrawled out a rule book to guide us to our better selves, to live in a country where we are all equal. Or at least we should be. And must be. I believe we will get there. Today’s strife across our country is a time of patriotic explosions, and social awakenings. It stings, but we will learn to be better.

So today as you enjoy a barbecue with family and friends at a safe distance, take time to marinate in the U.S. Constitution preamble:

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

Magnificent intentions and guidance.

And if you still need help feeling those higher intentions, I encourage you to listen to 7-year-old Malea Emma sing our national anthem before a Los Angeles Galaxy soccer game. Wow. God bless Malea, you, and America; God bless everyone and everything on this Earth.

Happy Fourth of July.

Judi Stoa's Donchyaknow Life Lessons to see and bring out the best in yourself and others

Website: Judi Stoa Books

Blog: Donchyaknow Life Lessons