July 4, 2025 • 10 mins
On this episode of Our American Stories, as a kid, Dennis Peterson’s experience with fireworks was mostly from a distance, but as his life changed, so did his Independence Day celebrations. Dennis reflects on how Independence Day became the backdrop to his personal journey and why each July 4th still matters.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we returned to our American stories in our Fourth
of July Special All so long, we're celebrating the things
that make America a special country that it is. Up next,
a story from Dennis Peterson. Dennis is a writer from
South Carolina, and today he shares with us the stories
a memorable experience as he's had throughout his life. On
(00:30):
Independence Day, Take it away.
Speaker 2 (00:32):
Dennis John Adams, our nation's first vice president, wrote to
his wife Abigail, after passage of the Declaration of Independence.
He described how he thought the day should be celebrated
by future generations. It ought to be commemorated as the
(00:53):
day of deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty.
It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires,
and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other,
from this time forward forevermore. Apparently, my father had never
(01:18):
heard about that quotation, because when I was a kid
growing up in East Tennessee, our celebrations of July fourth
were decidedly low key. We never had any fireworks, not
even a solitary firecracker. Daddy thought fireworks were too dangerous
for us. You'll blow off your fingers or put out
(01:40):
an eye, he direly prophesied. I don't work hard just
so you can blow up my money, he declared. So
July fourth celebrations were quiet, reduced to a cookout and
maybe a few games of badminton in the backyard, and
we kids came through every July Fourth with all fingers
(02:01):
and eyes. Intact, fireworks were illegal in Knox County. One
had to go to the fireworks stand just across the
county line in neighboring Union County to buy fireworks. Regardless
of their illegality. In Knox County, fireworks were ubiquitous all
(02:21):
over the county on July Fourth. The police simply looked
the other way unless someone complained about unruly revelers. A
few times our family would drive into the State Fairgrounds
in Knoxville to watch the officially sanctioned fireworks display held
there every Fourth, but usually we had to be content
(02:43):
to watch them at home from a great distance. We
lived outside the city limits miles from the fairgrounds, but
if it was a clear night, we could see some
of the highest rockets and mortar shells burst on the horizon.
Beyond the ridges, and we could hear the delayed booms
of the explosions. We saw the color bursts several seconds
(03:05):
before we heard the report. In fact, the colors often
had fallen from view by the time the sound of
the boom reached us. After I was married and was
living in a row home in southeastern Pennsylvania, the volunteer
fire department of the little town sponsored and conducted an
impressive fireworks display at the nearby community park. We didn't
(03:29):
have to leave home to enjoy ninety percent of the performance.
Other townhouses blocked our view of ground displays, but the
aerial displays were just as if we had been on
the launching pad. People from outside our community crowded into
our development hours before dark, staking claim to any empty
parking spaces. As darkness fell, the residents gathered their lawn
(03:53):
chairs in their tiny postage stamp patches of lawns, or
aligned them along the sidewalks to ensure a good view,
and the firemen never disappointed us in the quality of
the fireworks they chose to feature. They always announced the
start of the performance by launching a huge mortar shell
that exploded high, high in the air. Showering multicolored sparks
(04:17):
across the entire sky and rattling windows all over the community.
They left no one doubting when the fireworks would begin.
Then they proceeded to launch their featured fireworks for the
next twenty or thirty minutes. Everyone ooed and odd at
the beautiful display of colors. Kids screamed with each ear splitting,
(04:41):
chest pounding explosion. Everyone voiced a running commentary of how
great the preceding display had been, until the next one
interrupted their opinion, and that one produced an even more
laudatory commentary. They applauded and cheered loudly when the grand
finale was fired, and it was always the loudest, longest, highest,
(05:03):
and most colorful display of the night. But no matter
how long the performance lasted, every spectator was left wanting more,
and the firemen seemed to oblige by providing bigger and
better and longer lasting performances with each succeeding year. But
(05:24):
then one year it all came to an ignominious end.
The echoes from the shot that announced the start of
the show had barely died away. The firemen had chosen
to begin with several ground displays, so those of us
who lived several blocks from the park couldn't see what
was happening, but we could hear their reports and the
(05:45):
worrying of the spinning displays, and see their glow above
the rooftops. But then the sound of explosions became a
rolling and rumbling roar, and the glow above the rooftops
suddenly became much brighter, And then that sound was replaced
by an eerie silence. We saw only a dark sky
(06:07):
above us. Then we heard sirens and knew that something
was wrong. Then words spread like wildfire as an eye
witness ran back from the park with the horrifying news.
A mortar had fallen over when one of the ground
displays was lit, and it had shot along the ground
(06:27):
right into the cash of combustibles, igniting them and scattering
explosives all over the park. The next day, a curious
youngster was exploring the burnt grounds of the park and
found one of the few fireworks that had not been
ignited by the conflagration. It exploded as he held it,
severing his thumb. After that tragedy, the volunteer fire department
(06:52):
refused to sponsor another fireworks display the risk was too great.
That was years ago. Our kids were so young that
I doubt if any of them remembers that event. But
after they were married, had kids of their own and
returned to visit on other fourths of July. I wanted
(07:13):
to give the grandkids a celebration to remember. A few
people in our small subdivision sometimes shut off a few
fireworks every year, but big or small, everyone enjoyed the
private fireworks displays. One year, I decided to join the
performers rather than remain a mere spectator, so I bought
(07:35):
a supply of assorted fireworks and laid out an area
of the backyard to be my launching pad. It rained
the afternoon of the fourth and the humidity remained high.
As darkness approached. Brief periods of sprinkles continued off and on,
but rain or no rain, the show would go on.
(07:56):
I lit the fuse on the first mortar round, designed
to be heard more than seen, and ran. I slipped
on the wet grass and nearly fell. The mortar did
its job, announcing to the whole neighborhood the beginning of
our performance. As we fired more and more of the
power techniques, the smoke got thicker. It got so thick
(08:20):
that I could hardly see the fuses as I tried
to light them in the rays of my weak flashlight.
Coughing and sputtering and slipping on the wet grass, I
kept the performance going. With neighbors also shooting their own fireworks,
our community sounded as though it were waging a small
civil war. One year, my niece Charity and her husband
(08:46):
Brandon visited over the Fourth with their newly adopted baby
daughter Bren. While Brandon and I lit the fireworks, Charity
and my wife Connie watched. Toward the end of the display,
we lit one rocket, and the force of the launch
turned over the pad, rocketing the projectile toward the house,
(09:06):
right where the ladies were sitting. Thankfully, they were alert
and jumped aside just in time to avoid catastrophe. I
could just hear Daddy's warning from beyond the grave, you'll
lose a finger or an eye with fireworks. But over
the years, my appreciation for the Fourth has grown. I've
(09:28):
realized increasingly what it is that we're celebrating on the fourth.
It's not about loud booms and bright and multicolored sparks.
We are celebrating our independence from government tyranny. We are
celebrating our freedom. That freedom did not come cheaply. It
was bought at a great price. With each crackle of firecrackers,
(09:52):
with each boom of a mortar shell, with every spray
of color and sparkle against the night sky, we should
be heeding the advice of John Adams by offering our
thanks for the freedom we enjoy in this nation whose
birthday were celebrating, and we should do so safely.
Speaker 1 (10:14):
And a special thanks to Dennis Peterson for that submission,
and thank you Demonte for the production. And I've been
to so many great fireworks celebrations, Macy's down in the
New York Harbor, Saint Louis, over the Arch, but my
favorite in the Redneck Riviera up and down the Gold Coast.
All you saw were private celebrations, little ones, big ones,
(10:35):
and then of course the town ones. The entire beach
was lit for an hour straight. It's a beautiful part
of the country. Our Independence Day celebration here on our
American Stories
And we returned to our American stories in our Fourth
of July Special All so long, we're celebrating the things
that make America a special country that it is. Up next,
a story from Dennis Peterson. Dennis is a writer from
South Carolina, and today he shares with us the stories
a memorable experience as he's had throughout his life. On
(00:30):
Independence Day, Take it away.
Speaker 2 (00:32):
Dennis John Adams, our nation's first vice president, wrote to
his wife Abigail, after passage of the Declaration of Independence.
He described how he thought the day should be celebrated
by future generations. It ought to be commemorated as the
(00:53):
day of deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty.
It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires,
and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other,
from this time forward forevermore. Apparently, my father had never
(01:18):
heard about that quotation, because when I was a kid
growing up in East Tennessee, our celebrations of July fourth
were decidedly low key. We never had any fireworks, not
even a solitary firecracker. Daddy thought fireworks were too dangerous
for us. You'll blow off your fingers or put out
(01:40):
an eye, he direly prophesied. I don't work hard just
so you can blow up my money, he declared. So
July fourth celebrations were quiet, reduced to a cookout and
maybe a few games of badminton in the backyard, and
we kids came through every July Fourth with all fingers
(02:01):
and eyes. Intact, fireworks were illegal in Knox County. One
had to go to the fireworks stand just across the
county line in neighboring Union County to buy fireworks. Regardless
of their illegality. In Knox County, fireworks were ubiquitous all
(02:21):
over the county on July Fourth. The police simply looked
the other way unless someone complained about unruly revelers. A
few times our family would drive into the State Fairgrounds
in Knoxville to watch the officially sanctioned fireworks display held
there every Fourth, but usually we had to be content
(02:43):
to watch them at home from a great distance. We
lived outside the city limits miles from the fairgrounds, but
if it was a clear night, we could see some
of the highest rockets and mortar shells burst on the horizon.
Beyond the ridges, and we could hear the delayed booms
of the explosions. We saw the color bursts several seconds
(03:05):
before we heard the report. In fact, the colors often
had fallen from view by the time the sound of
the boom reached us. After I was married and was
living in a row home in southeastern Pennsylvania, the volunteer
fire department of the little town sponsored and conducted an
impressive fireworks display at the nearby community park. We didn't
(03:29):
have to leave home to enjoy ninety percent of the performance.
Other townhouses blocked our view of ground displays, but the
aerial displays were just as if we had been on
the launching pad. People from outside our community crowded into
our development hours before dark, staking claim to any empty
parking spaces. As darkness fell, the residents gathered their lawn
(03:53):
chairs in their tiny postage stamp patches of lawns, or
aligned them along the sidewalks to ensure a good view,
and the firemen never disappointed us in the quality of
the fireworks they chose to feature. They always announced the
start of the performance by launching a huge mortar shell
that exploded high, high in the air. Showering multicolored sparks
(04:17):
across the entire sky and rattling windows all over the community.
They left no one doubting when the fireworks would begin.
Then they proceeded to launch their featured fireworks for the
next twenty or thirty minutes. Everyone ooed and odd at
the beautiful display of colors. Kids screamed with each ear splitting,
(04:41):
chest pounding explosion. Everyone voiced a running commentary of how
great the preceding display had been, until the next one
interrupted their opinion, and that one produced an even more
laudatory commentary. They applauded and cheered loudly when the grand
finale was fired, and it was always the loudest, longest, highest,
(05:03):
and most colorful display of the night. But no matter
how long the performance lasted, every spectator was left wanting more,
and the firemen seemed to oblige by providing bigger and
better and longer lasting performances with each succeeding year. But
(05:24):
then one year it all came to an ignominious end.
The echoes from the shot that announced the start of
the show had barely died away. The firemen had chosen
to begin with several ground displays, so those of us
who lived several blocks from the park couldn't see what
was happening, but we could hear their reports and the
(05:45):
worrying of the spinning displays, and see their glow above
the rooftops. But then the sound of explosions became a
rolling and rumbling roar, and the glow above the rooftops
suddenly became much brighter, And then that sound was replaced
by an eerie silence. We saw only a dark sky
(06:07):
above us. Then we heard sirens and knew that something
was wrong. Then words spread like wildfire as an eye
witness ran back from the park with the horrifying news.
A mortar had fallen over when one of the ground
displays was lit, and it had shot along the ground
(06:27):
right into the cash of combustibles, igniting them and scattering
explosives all over the park. The next day, a curious
youngster was exploring the burnt grounds of the park and
found one of the few fireworks that had not been
ignited by the conflagration. It exploded as he held it,
severing his thumb. After that tragedy, the volunteer fire department
(06:52):
refused to sponsor another fireworks display the risk was too great.
That was years ago. Our kids were so young that
I doubt if any of them remembers that event. But
after they were married, had kids of their own and
returned to visit on other fourths of July. I wanted
(07:13):
to give the grandkids a celebration to remember. A few
people in our small subdivision sometimes shut off a few
fireworks every year, but big or small, everyone enjoyed the
private fireworks displays. One year, I decided to join the
performers rather than remain a mere spectator, so I bought
(07:35):
a supply of assorted fireworks and laid out an area
of the backyard to be my launching pad. It rained
the afternoon of the fourth and the humidity remained high.
As darkness approached. Brief periods of sprinkles continued off and on,
but rain or no rain, the show would go on.
(07:56):
I lit the fuse on the first mortar round, designed
to be heard more than seen, and ran. I slipped
on the wet grass and nearly fell. The mortar did
its job, announcing to the whole neighborhood the beginning of
our performance. As we fired more and more of the
power techniques, the smoke got thicker. It got so thick
(08:20):
that I could hardly see the fuses as I tried
to light them in the rays of my weak flashlight.
Coughing and sputtering and slipping on the wet grass, I
kept the performance going. With neighbors also shooting their own fireworks,
our community sounded as though it were waging a small
civil war. One year, my niece Charity and her husband
(08:46):
Brandon visited over the Fourth with their newly adopted baby
daughter Bren. While Brandon and I lit the fireworks, Charity
and my wife Connie watched. Toward the end of the display,
we lit one rocket, and the force of the launch
turned over the pad, rocketing the projectile toward the house,
(09:06):
right where the ladies were sitting. Thankfully, they were alert
and jumped aside just in time to avoid catastrophe. I
could just hear Daddy's warning from beyond the grave, you'll
lose a finger or an eye with fireworks. But over
the years, my appreciation for the Fourth has grown. I've
(09:28):
realized increasingly what it is that we're celebrating on the fourth.
It's not about loud booms and bright and multicolored sparks.
We are celebrating our independence from government tyranny. We are
celebrating our freedom. That freedom did not come cheaply. It
was bought at a great price. With each crackle of firecrackers,
(09:52):
with each boom of a mortar shell, with every spray
of color and sparkle against the night sky, we should
be heeding the advice of John Adams by offering our
thanks for the freedom we enjoy in this nation whose
birthday were celebrating, and we should do so safely.
Speaker 1 (10:14):
And a special thanks to Dennis Peterson for that submission,
and thank you Demonte for the production. And I've been
to so many great fireworks celebrations, Macy's down in the
New York Harbor, Saint Louis, over the Arch, but my
favorite in the Redneck Riviera up and down the Gold Coast.
All you saw were private celebrations, little ones, big ones,
(10:35):
and then of course the town ones. The entire beach
was lit for an hour straight. It's a beautiful part
of the country. Our Independence Day celebration here on our
American Stories
Host
Lee Habeeb
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