Chapter 41

To me, today, the Fourth of July is kind of a non-holiday. But when I was a kid, it was the best!

It happened in the middle of summer, so it was a break from the boredom of long, lazy days with nothing to do but read comic books, play with the newest batch of kittens or puppies, and swim in the lake when it got too hot.

Yeah, I know. Rough life.

But July 4 meant we went to a nearby town, Annandale, for the annual parade, picnic, and fireworks.  And best of all, the carnival.  Ok, it was a rinky-dink operation with falling-apart rides, hokey hucksters, and horrible food, but we didn’t know that. We thought it was great!

Mother had relatives — her Aunt Olive (no, not THAT one) and Uncle Jed — who lived on Pleasant Lake on the edge of town and were within walking distance of all the action. Our parents spent the day visiting and, by mid-afternoon, would also mosey over to the carnival. Daddy would give us each a dollar to spend. A whole dollar!

Cindy and I were about eight and nine years old when we first started going there, and went every year I can recall until I went to college. Nobody in those days worried about little girls walking alone to a nearby park. Everybody did it. Often, we walked with other cousins and, early on, our older sister, Andrea, who dumped us as soon as we got there.

We’d wander the carnival, amazed at the sights, the sounds, the smells, the colors, and the activity that most kids love. We carefully explored every inch of the place before deciding how to spend our money. Well, ten cents had to go to cotton candy, of course. A treat we only got once a year. With sticky pink hands and faces, we continued checking out the wares.

My very favorite thing in the whole world was the Tilt-A-Whirl. If you’ve never been strapped into a rickety metal bucket that spins around like a top, changes directions without warning, and throws you all over the place, you just haven’t lived. It was ten cents, too, but worth at least two rides — maybe three. We screamed our lungs out — something we never really did any other time. It was exhilarating!

When we got hungry, we’d waste another ten cents on a crappy boiled hot dog. Who needed food when there was a carousel to ride? Even Daddy ate from the booths — although I don’t remember a mashed-potato-and-gravy booth. There must have been one, though.

As the day waned, we’d return to the aunt and uncle’s house, sit on the dock, and dangle our feet in the water, waiting for the big event: the fireworks.

Mother would bring a blanket, and we’d sit on the bank of the lake for a double-vision view of the show. The sky was reflected in the lake, so we’d see fireworks above and below. Never mind that we were slapping mosquitoes the whole time. It was worth a few bites!

As we got older, things changed. First, we had to go to the parade because Andrea was playing drums (naturally) in the high school band. Later, after we girls all joined the Wright County Saddle Club, Andrea and I rode horses in the parade — Andrea and I were on the drill team, which performed synchronized movements on horseback. Not very well, but good enough for the small-town parade, I guess.

That involved a lot of logistical problems, since we didn’t have a horse trailer. We rode our horses two miles to the saddle club grounds in Maple Lake, where they were trailered the five miles to Annandale. Then we reversed the whole process at noon, when the parade was over.

Andrea’s best friend, Mary Puncochar, lived on the next farm, and Mary’s Dad, Dutch, would drive us all back to Annandale for the carnival and fireworks. There, I’d join Cindy and the cousins, if there were any, for the rest of the day. As Cindy and I became teenagers, we added our friend Linda A. to the fun. We’d wear our coolest outfits and try to attract the attention of any cute teenage boys who were also cruising the carnival. But mostly we didn’t find any cute ones.

When I was a teenager, I joined the Wright County Saddle Club, at Andrea’s urging. She needed me to ride one of the horses the two miles into town and back for practices. I was the next oldest, so I got chosen. I loved being in the club, riding her little palomino quarter horse mare, Terry, in the drill team and sometimes subbing in the square dance (yes, on horseback!) team. We got to ride in the annual Annandale parade and a few others, too. Doing drill team on a town street is something of a challenge!

The day after the 4th was always a let-down. There was nothing ahead now but a long, hot stretch of summer, playing with kittens, reading comics, and swimming in the lake.  Like I said, a rough life.

EPILOGUE

Cindy: Linda pretty well sums up our 4th of July outings. One of the strongest memories I have of those adventures was the ride home, in the darkened car, drifting off from yet another great 4th!

When I entered high school I joined the Lakettes, a dance group that performed at parades, so I, too, got to be in the Annandale parade jumping around and kicking up a storm. I loved being in the Lakettes, wearing black satin shorts, net stockings, tap shoes (the BEST), and a green spangly top. The high school band marched right behind us, playing our dance tunes. The horses came somewhere way behind, for obvious reasons. (Gotta keep those tap shoes clean!)