From water balloons to M-80’s

Well over 50 years ago, there was an incident with two of my oldest friends, that included a bit of juvenile delinquency! Water balloons and those legendary firecrackers known as M-80s were the culprits.

Although these actions at the time were considered unlawful, I am confident the statute of limitations is long past. Thus, I am now willing to finally as we used to say, come clean and spill the beans!

Two of my oldest friends were Randy Emery and Wade Mitchell. We had known each other since we were very young boys. Randy passed away far too early back in 1991 from brain cancer. Wade has been a dentist in Springfield for many years.

The events I am about to describe occurred in May of 1965. Wade had turned 16 earlier in January, and I followed with the same birthday in February. It was now Randy’s turn in the month of May.

Although we would now all possess drivers licenses, none of us owned a vehicle of our own. That is significant when you compare it to today’s world. All three of us came from middle-class families of that period, but it was somewhat rare for a 16-year-old to have their own car.

As a rule if you wanted to drive, you had to borrow one of your family’s vehicles. On this particular night as we celebrated Randy’s 16th birthday, Wade had the use of his mother’s 1960 Chevrolet (that is the year that I recall, but Wade may correct my memory when he reads this).

That car was a four-door white basic sedan. Randy was riding in the passenger seat, and I took my place in the back seat. We had cruised all the normal routes that evening, including the White Grill parking lot to visit our friends. In those days that parking lot was like the one in the movie “American Graffiti.” The circular lot was filled with parked cars of teenagers. Some were there to eat, but by and large most ordered cokes from the curb hops. It was for teens of that era a magical memorable place.

As young 16-year-olds, we felt a need to do something a bit ornery. The first of the actions we chose that evening was to do some water ballooning. We had filled several balloons with water and as we drove around town we threw these at some of our friend’s cars. As I am writing this, I think back in wonder as to just why we garnered any pleasure in this practice. The only answer that comes to mind, is that it was a teen thing, only to be understood by a teenager of the ‘60s.

There was back in those days, a firecracker called an M-80. It was I think actually illegal to possess them, but they were quite prevalent in those days. Randy had one left over from the Fourth of July the year before. All evening, he had been anxious to light and throw this last powerful firecracker. Wade and I kept telling him we needed to wait until later when there was less likelihood that we would be apprehended by the local authorities.

We all had curfews back then, so as we neared the end of our summer night’s celebrating, we finally decided that it was time for him to throw his M-80. What followed next became legend for the three of us.

We were on West Lee Street when Wade slowed the car for Randy to light and throw the M-80. This was late May and we had all four windows down in the car. I gazed into the front seat as Randy lit the fuse on the explosive. My breathing and anxiety grew as I saw the fuse take.

Randy quickly threw the M-80 out his window. I can still see in my mind the next few seconds as if they were minutes in duration. The wind caught the M-80 and it flew, still casting off sparks, back in my window right in front of my face.

Purely by instinct I suspect — I didn’t hesitate for even a millisecond — I grabbed the handle of my door, threw it open and without any concern for my safety jumped from the still moving car.

To my amazement, I rolled a few times on the pavement and as if sliding into a base on a ball field, I found myself back on my feet. Wade had slowed to only a few miles per hour before Randy had thrown the M-80. Now I saw them both chasing the still moving car.

Suddenly there was a tremendous BOOM! The car was instantly lit in the bright light of the explosion and smoke filled the entire passenger area. I began to run toward the car without making any conscious plan.

About the same time I reached the back door, I heard a loud scream. Randy had jumped back in the passenger side and thrown himself across the seat to push the brake with his hand. Wade had simultaneously arrived and as he jumped in, stomped the brake and Randy’s hand.

As the car suddenly stopped, I was still in full gallop trying to attain my seat. I ran full-tilt into the still open back door. And when we all jumped in the car to leave the scene, my door it was jammed open and would not close.

We stopped a few blocks later and somehow managed to close the door. Wade would tell me it never worked properly after that. The M-80 had detonated on the back ledge behind the back seats (those sedans back then had areas like that).

Wade had some serious explaining to do to mother Kay, but our misadventure was kept under wraps. Now that it is some 53 years later, I thought you would like to hear how we used to love our water balloons and M-80s. P.S. As I related these events, my pulse and breathing once again felt 16 years old!