The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays behind Christmas.
As a young child growing up next to the Platte River, we had a literal playground of fun right out in front of the house which we took advantage of.
Sarah Neben
My mom and dad hosted epic 4th of July parties which many of their friends still remember to this day.
I was able to invite a couple of friends from Lexington, which made it even more fun for me. I remember jumping up and down in excitement when I knew they were about to arrive.
The party would begin in the early afternoon with a “blue rock shoot” which is a slang term for a clay target shooting event on the banks of the river.
Saucer-shaped clay targets would be launched high over the water by hand and then there would be a contest to see who could hit and shatter the most.
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I remember all the whooping and hollering that would commence when someone would get a great shot.
We still have a clay target we found mostly intact from one of those blue rock shoots. We keep it in a basket in the boy’s television room.
No one outside the family would understand why we keep that banged-up clay target, but it reminds us of some great days spent with friends and family.
Later, we would gather for a wonderful supper with some delicious food.
Dad grilled over charcoal coals (never gas) and the steaks, burgers and hot dogs that came off his grill tasted amazing.
While the food was cooking dad would usually pour a can of beer over the meat and into the coals — I think that’s what made everything taste so good.
Of course, lots of beer was consumed by the chef as well as being used to season the food. Mom would make several salads (her potato salad was awesome) deviled eggs, and other yummy goodies.
Other folks would bring side dishes to share so there was plenty to eat.
After the meal, us kids couldn’t contain our enthusiasm for the firework show to start.
To keep us pacified we were allowed to light off a few small fireworks in front of the house.
Those were the small white ones you threw on the ground, and they made a popping sound, ones that looked like a small black snake forming, smoke bombs, and of course, sparklers.
Several folks have horror stories about those, but I never remember anyone at our parties getting hurt or burned.
Finally, it was time for the big show.
Dad had a trailer he would place in the driveway and light off the fireworks from there.
We younger ones would jump and down in delight at each big boom and flash of light. There was one firework that would launch high up in the air and then a small parachute would emerge from the smoke.
We would rush down the driveway in the dark trying to find the parachute that was slowly falling to the ground.
There were quite a few that we never found. A few we found the next day hanging from one of the trees in the windbreak.
None of us wanted the firework show to end, and we would all groan when dad would yell out, “This is the last one!”
My friends from Lexington spent the night with us, but I don’t think we ever got much sleep — we were too keyed up from all the excitement from the day before.
When I reminisce about previous Fourth of July parties, I have a huge smile on my face. Those parties were simply magic.
The sights, sounds, and smells are seared into my memory. It was about family, friends, great food, and celebrating our beloved country’s birthday.
What could be better than that?
Later, the Fourth of July became even more special as our daughter Maria was born on that day in 2000. So, then we had our child’s birthday to celebrate as well as our nation’s.
This year’s festivities will be even more spectacular as the United States of America will turn 250 years old.
And while there are many divisions between us, troubles, and things we as a nation have done wrong, there is much to celebrate.
I still believe the United States can be a refuge, a place of opportunity for people all over the world.
A place of new beginnings, like it was for our ancestors who came from Germany.
A favorite hymn of mine is “America the Beautiful” written by Katharine Lee Bates in 1904.
The first verse is familiar, but I also love this verse: “O beautiful for pilgrim feet whose stern impassioned stress, a thoroughfare for freedom beat across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law!”
But with that song I also believe we need to sing a verse of this one as well: “This is My Song,” written by Lloyd Stone and Georgia Harkness.
“My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean, and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine; but other lands have sunlight too, and clover, and skies are everywhere as blue as mine. O hear my song, thou God of all the nations, a song of peace for their land and for mine.”
