Quite a bit of my summer months as a child were spent with my relatives in New York. My Mom worked in a college cafeteria and my sister in law at the time was a school teacher. With both of them having the summer months off and all three of us living in rather rural Pennsylvania, a few weeks in New York with my rather wacky relatives was always a good time.
Being a Yankees fan, we would maybe catch a game if the Bombers were in town. Never at a loss for something to do, you could always fall back on visiting a New York landmark. The summer months also meant some time at either Jones Beach (my favorite for waves) or a closer beach like Rye. A summer that I still remember occurred during a stretch that we visited over the 4th of July.
The thing you have to know about my relatives is that they take the term “flying by the seat of your pants” to the extreme. Probably being lifelong New Yorkers, they possibly would not know any other way to live. I am not sure who came up with the idea, but the plan was to drive into the city and witness the 4th of July fireworks display that would be over the Hudson River.
I don’t remember if the fireworks were to begin at 9:00 or 9:30, but if the decision to drive down to the display was made before 8:30, I would be very surprised. Mini vans weren’t the mode of transportation for the large family at that time, so eight of us crammed in the biggest car that was at the house. It made for a rather uncomfortable ride from New Rochelle into New York City.
No real thought was given as to where to view the fireworks. We would just drive towards the river and if need be, park the car somewhere and follow the masses walking towards the display. I am sure you can sense where this story is headed at this point. Traffic was typical driving into the city for a major event. Adding to the traffic woes was that we really did not know where along the river the fireworks were going to be held.
Suddenly, off in the distance, the fireworks could be heard. My cousin thought she saw a flash to the left. It was decided that the next side street we could take that would move us south, we would take. Once headed in that direction, we soon realized that the fireworks were going off behind us. We were driving in the totally wrong direction.
A turn was made that pointed us in the direction of the fireworks display that we could hear, but not see. Realizing that we were never going to drive close enough to see anything, it was decided to find the next parking space and make a run for a spot that would possibly enable us to catch a glimpse of the display through the tall buildings.
By the time we were able to find a place to park the car, the fireworks show had at least been going on for ten to fifteen minutes. Eight bodies untangled from the car and a mad dash for the water began. Then again, my Mom was at least in her mid to late 50s and my Aunt was probably early 50s, so I’m not exactly sure that it was nothing more than a fast walk to the water.
You never quite realize how long a city block is in New York until you start walking them. Possibly three blocks into our trek, we all came to the realization that there was no possible way we were going to make it to a spot to view the fireworks. Our race now was back to the car as quickly as possible to avoid having to fight the thousands of people that would now be leaving the city having actually viewed the fireworks.
My cousin worked for my Uncle, but he might have had a second job as a distributor of illegal fireworks. Every year, he would make a run down into the Carolinas and stock up on all kinds of pyrotechnics that were not available in the North. Today, you see fireworks tents all over the place in Pennsylvania, but that definitely wasn’t the case thirty years ago. My cousin told us to give him fifteen minutes or so and he would give us a little fireworks display in the front yard. That gave us some time to gather up some lawn chairs and some snacks before the show was to begin.
My Aunt lived in a real nice area of New Rochelle, but this evening the quiet neighborhood sounded more like a war zone. I don’t think there was a neighbor that was not setting off inchers or bottle rockets that night.
I remember my cousin starting our show with a Roman Candle display. I also remember that his supply of fireworks contained a few duds and other products that needed to be lit multiple times. I remember too when he scattered the audience by trying to light one of the devices for a third time a little too close to where we were sitting. We were not sure what was going to happen when this display finally ignited, but none of us wanted to be too close to it if or when it finally went off. I believe we were out almost to midnight shooting off fireworks.
The only person that was not amused was my grandmother. My grandmother lived with my Aunt and Uncle and was at least in her early 80s at the time. She thought the neighbors were soon going to call the Police on us. I think my cousin purposely fired off the last few rounds of his arsenal a little closer to the house just to irritate my grandmother a little bit more.
As we strolled back into the house, my grandmother was waiting by the door for us. We were warned that we should not go back outside since it was so late and the neighbors were going to complain about the fireworks. My cousin shot back, “Grandma, it sounds like the Vietnam War is going on out there and you think the Police are going to single this house out?
We did not go back out that night. Like always when we stayed at my Aunt’s house we were awake until two or three in the morning. As I settled into bed that night, I still heard rounds of fireworks from all over the neighborhood. The Police sure must have been busy that night.
