Tacoma, WA

I’ve lived in Tacoma for 18 or so years and I’ve never joined the rowdy crowds of Seattle for the 4th of July fireworks show, so I figured it’s high time. I called up a couple friends who go to college in Seattle and asked if they want to see some lights in the big city. Neither of them had done it for a few years, so they agreed, decided on Gas Works Park, North of the Queen Anne Peninsula, exit 169 of I-5, left onto 45th, another left on any road and all the way down to the water, all roads lead to Gas Works.
We traced the packed streets back, back, and back, streets so thin they functioned as one-ways. Whenever a car headed the opposite way approached, a face-off ensued ending in one of us resigning into someone’s driveway until the other car passed. We found a spot pretty much right where we got off the freeway. I called my friend Theresa and told her we arrived, we’re walking towards the park.
“Where are you?”
“45th.”
“Ha! Well, call me when you get closer.”

So we trickled down the trafficked grid watching endless barbeques and tireless football tossing throughout the quaint neighborhood blocks. At the entrance of the park a row of Honeybuckets had a line of at least 20 in front of each. Various radio stations had set up speakers on either side of the old Gas Works Towers and were competing provincially. Blankets, cameras, strollers, wide brimmed hats, water bottles and excited people wearing sunglasses covered every inch of grass. My cell phone was useless amidst the music and yelling crowds, so we futilely circumambulated the park by a small concrete path, stepping over sandaled feet, moving around camera tripods, and avoiding frantic children, overwhelmed by glee into aimless running (away from their parent’s scolding).

The hill on the West side of the park was topped by a giant Statue of Liberty balloon head amidst countless smaller, but equally as patriotic heads. The sun was just setting over the hill from where I was standing and I watched in the shifting silhouettes climb and decline the hill.

Somehow we met up with my friends Theresa and Caryn and joined them in their spot, saved since 3 o’clock. We chatted and watched the sun illuminate the downtown buildings of Seattle across the water until it was dark and the show began.

An apache helicopter entered stage left with an enormous American flag hanging below. A white spotlight on the flag made it the focal point of all attention, a bright floating flag in the black. The copter rounded the sound and left as it entered, as soon as the fireworks began from the barge in the water.

The fireworks were excellent, accompanied by music, a stellar show, at times filling the whole sky with colors and sparkles. The crowd disappeared as I watched the dazzling sky and thought, “It is worth it.”