The Fourth

The Fourth

   The word conjures up many immediate thoughts...King Henry IV, the fourth dimension, and of course (at least here in the U.S. and until recently, the Philippines), The Fourth of July.  Yes, the day of celebration is over, the fireworks popping up only now and then as the late-night boom that is as uneventful and unnoticeable as the car alarm going off in the parking lot.  The irony of history, is that the actual date of independence (when the resolution was declared) was July 2nd, a date John Adams (one of the few original signers of the Declaration of Independence who was not extremely wealthy or an owner of slaves) wrote to his wife, Abigail: The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the 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 forever more.

   Fireworks are themselves quite interesting, the main element of course being a mix of potassium nitrate, charcoal and sulfur...gunpowder.  The ignition of the potassium nitrate combines with oxygen to burn the charcoal and sulfur and an explosion occurs.  The sparkling displays are metal salts (blue being one of the most difficult colors to create), blended with binders and all wrapped tightly in paper, something the Chinese invented back in the 7th century.  And fireworks displays are celebrated throughout the world, from Singapore to India, and from Canada to Norway (which currently holds the record for the most fireworks used in a display, a festival that also celebrated their independence).  Beyond the parks' borders of Disneyland (Disney is the largest user of fireworks in the world), you could hop over to Cincinnati on Labor Day (September) to view what is often billed as the second largest annual fireworks display in North America.  If you've never gone, you'll likely be mesmerized as I was, first by watching the number of people moving through town as if heading to a happy evacuation; then secondly by the destination, a riverbank where hundreds of thousands of people settle in beside you and anxiously wait, all sitting a bit uncomfortably on the concrete where water once flowed.  It is the picnic of picnics, a nighttime activity that brings back memories of childhood, everyone staring all around and wondering what in the world was going to happen.  And then, the barges in the river light up and loudspeakers blare;  "How are you doing, Ohio?"  and a roar of Olympic proportions goes up (some estimates place the crowd at half a million people).  Then the massive spotlights swing around and light up the opposite bank of the river, and you gulp as if surprised at the waiting "army" on the other side.  "How about you, Kentucky?"  And again, a massive roar...the excitement is there.  And before you can even think about it, the fireworks begin, a non-stop display of close to 40 minutes with cascading lighted waterfalls off of the bridges, and massive aerials sent from the barges.  It is a time when some of the largest fireworks companies test out their newest displays as well as their standard ooh-and-ahh sparklers (one display was a series of Japanese-like lanterns that shot out by the dozens in a slow illuminated fall, something I've yet to see elsewhere).

   Overriding all this, of course, is the factor behind all the spectacle, that of celebrating.  It's a time of release, a time of gathering, a time of letting diets go and eating and gobbling what you like (one PBS article writes that on that day, Americans eat 150 million hot dogs, 700 millions pounds of chicken and swill it all down with nearly 58 million cases of beer).  And stepping back, one has to wonder about the difficulty of reaching independence, something that continues to this day in many parts of the world.  From ethnic to religious borders, sectarian battles continue with (generally) one common cause, that of being recognized as their own...their own people, their own tribe, their own land, their own religion.  We, as an independent nation, sometimes forget how valuable such freedom can be, and also how hard fought it was to obtain.  To have free speech (even if hateful), to not be censored (or at least, not massively so), to walk freely and come and go as we please, to post something on a blog.  How lucky is that?  How lucky are we?

   So although the actual day of celebration has passed, the Fourth of July giving way to the fourth of August, then the fourth of September, it'd be good to reflect back on what that lighting up the dark sky means; we watch fireworks in fun, the loud booms and explosions scintillating and thrilling.  But for some countries, the lighted skies and cannon-like fires continue day and night, the world seemingly filled with an endless supply of weapons.  For those people, the day seems far away when they can look to the sky and see the flares and sparkles falling down and giddily smile at the sight, glad that the bad memories are behind them and this is now done as a celebration.  But someday, they hope, someday they will do so, and their own "declaration" will be reason enough to celebrate once every year.