July 4th was usually a frustrating day for us kids, because all the other kids on the street were off having fun with their families and we had no one to play with. The worst part, however, was that we always wanted to see fireworks, but never could. No amount of begging could get Mom to leave the house. Our holiday was always spent at home, end of discussion. So this story is not about anything noteworthy. The reminders of Eagle Street July 4th celebrations are a bit subtle, but they still exist.
These things were always a part of our yearly celebration:
Swamp coolers
Swimming pools
Corn on the cob
Shasta soda pop
Watermelon
Temporary suspension of the Streetlight Rule
Road flares
Goodyear Blimp
July 4th was usually very hot. Someone in the family would have to go down to the scary basement to retrieve the huge old swamp coolers and then set them up in the front room windows for Mom. The wires were frayed, and the machines were old rust buckets. But somehow, Mom and Dad were able to repair them enough to keep them going summer after summer. We had to keep the big machines filled with Mom's distilled water to keep them working properly. They would blow damp, cool air into the front room where Mom sat watching TV.
We spent lots of time in the pool. During most of the 60's, that meant splashing around in a little inflated kid's pool in the yard. We enjoyed a huge upgrade in 1969 when the real pool was installed in our backyard.
 |
| By July 4, 1970 we were out of the kiddie pool and in the enclosed, 98 degree real pool. Jeff is on the slide and Tammy is climbing the ladder. We could swim like fish, but for the first year, Mom made us wear life vests and buoyancy belts. |
Mom rarely cooked. But on July 4th she always served up corn on the cob. It was the one day of the year that she would dig her metal pressure cooker out from the back of the cupboard. That thing was terrifying. It made noise, and Mom was always having to check the pressure gauge. I didn't want to be in the kitchen with it because I was always afraid it would blow up. But it made really tasty cooked corn. I had no idea that there were other ways to cook it until I grew up and discovered a pot of boiling water works fine too.
Mom never strayed from her daily diet of Tab. But for us, she bought Shasta by the flat because it was really cheap. We returned to the fridge all day long to get our favorite flavors: Black Cherry, Crème, Tiki Punch, and Root Beer.
 |
| An old newspaper ad from the late 60's. This was before we had aluminum cans. These cans imparted a slight metallic taste to the drink, and you could really screw up the pop top if you didn't pay attention while opening the can. |
No Independence Day would be complete without watermelon. This was before the personal size, the seedless and striped varieties hit our local grocery store. Back in the day, watermelons were dark green, huge, and loaded with black seeds. Mom loved watermelon. For herself, she would remove the rind and seeds, cut the watermelon up into small cubes, and eat it from a bowl. For us kids, she would make huge half moon slices, rind and seeds intact, and make us go outside to eat it.
At sunset, when the street light came on, and the first star appeared in the sky, my little brother and sister and I would start hearing the first sounds of unseen fire crackers and fireworks. Mom would hand us our watermelon wedges and tell us to sit on the curb in front of our house. Then she would go to the garage and get a road flare.
 |
| At 20 cents, a road flare, Mom's idea of Fireworks, was bargain entertainment |
She lit it and placed it in the street a few feet from where we were sitting. Normally, we were required to be in the house when the streetlight came on, or face swift punishment. July 4th was the one and only day that this rule was suspended. We could sit outside to cool off in the dark and watch the flames without fear of the belt.
The road flare burned calmly in the street, as fireworks popped somewhere far away. We swatted away mosquitoes and competed with each other to see who could spit their watermelon seeds into the flame. A road flare takes about an hour to burn out, but it kept our attention during that hour, because that was all the "fireworks" that we were going to get. I watched it and daydreamed about all the places I would take my kids to when I grew up. I had it all planned: I would take them to the Fair, to the beach, to the park, and to any place where we could watch fireworks with everyone else in town.
As the road flare sputtered and began to die out, we heard the familiar low-pitched hum of the Goodyear blimp. It flew overheard and its animated Super Skytacular show flashed colored lights that were fun to watch. The blimp flew around and around our neighborhood. Sometimes the lights created a waving American flag, sometimes the lights flashed stick figures, or hula dancers, or geometric patterns. We kids felt that the blimp brought the light show to Eagle Street just for us, since we were the only ones out on the street to see it.
After the flare died and the blimp drifted away, Mom came out to herd us inside. Another July 4th in the books. Just like the year before, and just as the next year would be. It was our simple way of celebrating the day on Eagle Street.
