- December 20, 2024
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This past fourth of July was one for books. It usually is, when my group contains a few boys who don’t mind risking a few limbs for a 10-second display of explosives.
We gathered at a friends house near Orlando to avoid the unavoidable traffic and crowds that would be at the citywide shows. With our own bags upon bags of fireworks, we could easily create a similar — and more obviously dangerous — show ourselves.
There were enough Mr. Crackles, Sparkling Glories and Big Bangs to light up an entire city. But we only had a small front yard, in a neighborhood filled with cars taking advantage of the street parking. Pair that with at least ten slightly drunk, twenty-something boys and you’ve got quite the scary show.
It started off with a few loud crackles but quickly turned into a game of who-could-light-the-most-fireworks-in-ten-seconds. Bottle rockets shot off from red solo cups, bottles of beer and even the back of one daring gentlemen’s jeans.
Though we were making tons of noise, we were definitely not the only loud ones on the street. But one round of 15 or so ground fireworks that sounded close to gun shots got the attention of a new mother across the street who really wasn’t having it.
After giving us a quick lecture on the time (it was only 10:30 p.m. by the way), she hopped in her car and drove to get “the police.” And to make things even better, one of those drunk, twenty-somethings missed the lecture and accidentally shot a bottle rocket near the new mother’s car. Classic 4th of July mistake.
The group gathered back inside for a few moments to let the dust settle before venturing out again for round two. This time, the location was in an empty lot behind the new mother’s house with a large “no trespassing” sign that everyone obviously ignored.
The gunshots (fireworks) started up again faster than ever to avoid another lecture from the new mother and possibly the police. But honestly, I think she was too scared front the crossfire to come back to her house and I don’t blame her.
About fifteen minutes into our little illegal display, something happened. A large firework that was meant to blow up in the sky, got tipped over mid-lighting. The end result was fireworks ricocheting off fences, cars and nearby trees. The scene was something out of an apocalyptic action movie.
I ran for my life for what felt like two miles but was really only a half of a block before I stopped due to exhaustion. I probably wouldn’t survive in an apocalyptic action movie. I looked for other survivors but no one was close by. They all stood and watched the firework massacre instead of getting out of its way. Somehow, no one was injured.
And though you might think a close call like that would be enough to end the show, it wasn’t. They continued on for at least another ten minutes before hearing police sirens.
Then they ran.
