Remembering July 4

I have always loved this holiday. Probably because it contains some of my favorites; like blazing hot days, sparklers, flags and yummy barbeques. My military brat status also plays in to the mix. One year I mentioned to my mom how I could remember going to a fireworks show as a kid and having the humongous colorful blooms straight above us, and then being very much afraid of the hot embers floating to the ground. She was amazed at my memory. This particular July 4 was spent in England when I was 3 or 4 years old. I can still remember being mesmerized by the pretty stars, and the terror of burning ash. In Edwards, they always had a big show, but spent the entire week before watering the entire area. If you don't know geography, Edwards is located in the middle of the Mojave desert.
When Bryan and I were dating, we spent one July 4 on the mountain above Kaysville. His parents had a mattress that needed transporting, and we stuck it in the back of his truck then made the trek up the old firebreak road. We could see Lagoon, Cherry Hill, Davis High, and even some fireworks up in Clearfield area, all to the tunes of Smashing Pumpkins.
At 12, my family moved to Utah so my dad could be living in his home state when he was ready to retire from the military. Somehow, special permission is given to Hill AFB to allow the F-16s to do a flyover from Ogden to Salt Lake (maybe further). We always sit on our roof and wait for them to come by. My parents live on a deadend, and are the last house, surrounded by a huge field, so the jets always came right over us. We now take my dad's POW flag and American flag up top and wave so the men & women flying know we appreciate them. One year they came so close, you felt you could reach up and touch the under belly of the jet.
As a teenager, my parents started to have a July 4 barbeque for the entire Garrett family. Everyone would show up for yummy dutch oven chicken and potatoes, and then cobbler later. My uncle Kyle would always make up homemade root beer. Then one year, my Uncle James came with his family from California. They had a tradition of buying fireworks, and this soon was added to the barbeque. Each year, much time is spent getting a gigantic case of fireworks, and then taking inventory of all there is and putting together a spectacular show. Then we watch Lagoon and Cherry Hill's fireworks from the frontyard. Plus all the illegal fireworks from the neighbors.
And then there's my favorite tradition. When we moved to Logan, we learned that Romney Stadium does their fireworks show the night before July 4. Who knows exactly why; some say it's a practice run for Stadium of Fire (but it's nowhere near as good) and others say it's because it makes the valley more money as supposedly no one would come to Logan for July 4. Whatever. Anyhow, my house is located directly south (and a tiny bit east) from the stadium, and if you sit on the rooftop, you get a wonderful view. We take up blankets, mosquito repellant and the camera and have a 'blast' (that pun's for you Dad) watching the show.
I love my July 4 memories. I'm glad that a bunch of farmers with pitchforks were pushed over the edge by a tea tax. Their sacrifice for the love of liberty allows me to enjoy a day of summer bliss.