Colors in the Sky

On the 4th of July

It’s difficult to express how special the 4th of July holiday was to me as a child growing up in Philadelphia. The summer was short. Many people worked Monday-Friday business hours. There was a feeling of great patriotism and many decorations. It is also a few days before my birthday, and this Moon Child is heavily into birthdays.

On the 4th of July, residents of Philly put up flags in front of their homes, and many of the children decorated their bikes with red, white, and blue streamers. Some kids put baseball cards or clothespins in their bike spokes to make a clacking sound.

The three summer holiday weekends, Memorial Day, 4th of July, and Labor Day were the pinnacles of celebration in my hometown.

As soon as Valentine’s Day was over the murmurs started,

“Going to the shore on Memorial Day?”

“Any set plans for the 4th?”

I’ve lived in Florida for years, and I’ve barely heard people holding their breath with excitement over an upcoming summer holiday. Memorial Day and New Year’s Day are not that different here. I’m not complaining. I love endless summer here in South Florida, but I do sometimes wish Halloween and other holidays felt like they did up north.

Golden leaves falling from trees.

Houses decorated with witches, pumpkins and turkeys.

Santa and reindeer sprinkled throughout the neighborhood. We have it here, but seeing Santa when you’re wearing shorts kind of misses the mark somehow.

Maybe not for native Floridians, but for transplants from the Northeast like me, Christmas just isn’t Christmas-y on the beach.

But back to the excitement and the awe surrounding the 4th of July holiday. Behind our childhood home was the Water Tower Recreation Center. We called it the playground. It was a well-run city establishment with paid teachers who supervised us and expected honorable behavior from us. My mother went to several of the teachers’ funerals as she said, “They helped me raise my kids.” The week suspension that I endured for writing on the walls of the building was indescribably torturous.

When I returned from suspension, I had to scrub the walls I had defaced before my privileges were restored. Everybody in the neighborhood hung out there. Even grown men had baseball league games there. There were countless activities, both outdoor and indoor. The indoor included a game room with shuffle board and ping pong. The Recreation Center offered ballet classes, dances and a basketball court.

For the 4th of July, the Water Tower sponsored track and field races, bicycle decoration contests, and a host of exciting activities that lasted most of the day.

But simmering beneath the surface was the anticipation we kids felt for the evening fireworks. My parents didn’t own a car, but they loved the 4th of July fireworks which were displayed in a large field in Mt. Airy, a town two miles south of us. Weather permitting, they walked us there carrying a blanket and drinks.

The booming bursts of sound and color in the sky signaled the grand finale with everyone rejoicing at the beauty of the fireworks. I can picture them vividly today as I saw them in Mt. Airy with my family. I continue to be fascinated by fireworks, and can see them from our porch over the ball field where the St. Louis Cardinals and the Miami Marlins practice Spring Training.

After the fireworks display in my youth, I remember the long trek home feeling joyful, tired, and loved.

Both of my parents were born in Ireland and missed it terribly throughout their lives. When my brother Patrick visited Ireland for the first time, he sent me a postcard that said only two words…Ireland exists.

Words cannot express the eternal homesickness my parents felt for Ireland.

But their enthusiasm for the 4th of July, their pride in their American citizenship, their love for American politics and for the American people touched me as a child. It took spunk, courage and resilience for them to celebrate America’s birthday with all the childlike joy of people who were born here.

I think the pride my parents felt for America’s birthday is what continues to delight me when I see colors in the sky on the 4th of July.