Memories are fun

One of the good things about living in an Assisted Living Facility is that most of the residents are in the same general age group. That makes it easy to have the conversation because you can usually start it by saying, “When you were little did your mother play games with you?” if the answer is yes you can learn about some new games and get to know other residents better. At this time of the summer, it is easy to listen to or share your own memories about the fourth of July.

It is interesting to see the differences in what you can hear. For example, many of them lived in or near a town that has a fireworks display at nighttime that can go on for several minutes. Rich Hill, is a good example of going all out to celebrate the fourth and some of their residents have either attended or used to live in the area.

I have many memories of celebrating the fourth but most of mine were on our own lawn or ground around it in the country. My father gave my sister Ellen and me each one dollar to go buy the fireworks that we wanted. That used to buy lots of stuff but not many firecrackers but we didn’t want our brothers to get them and tease us like they were going to get them and throw them behind us.

When my Uncle Chess and Aunt Gladys were visiting us over the fourth weekend our fears of firecrackers got a big test. Uncle Chess was a Colonel in the U.S. Army and he had come to our home bearing all sorts of holiday ammunition. (This was during World War II and Uncle Chess had also fought in World War I)On the night of the third of July he showed us all what he had brought to celebrate the next day. He gave my two teenaged brothers a handful of firecrackers and said they were not to be used until the fourth. We always gave company the sleeping porch when they visited us. The next morning as soon as it got light my brothers got on the roof of the house and crawled to be on top of the sleeping porch and got ready to throw firecrackers in the room. They had loosened the screen on one of the windows the night before, so working from above they slipped the screen off and tossed a small line of firecrackers into the room right behind the bed. You could hear Uncle Chess yelling even above the noise of the firecrackers. He put on his shoes and while still in his pajamas, holding a handful of firecrackers, he called out, “Where are those boys?

That was the battle cry for a long day of a war between a middle age plus army officer and two enthusiastic boys. When Aunt Gladys and my mother asked for a truce between them, I was sent with a white paper to find the boys and deliver the peace proposal which they obeyed, but Uncle Chess had to get one more shot at the boys. However, that night all three of the former participants in the firecracker war put on a fireworks display for the family and some neighbors. One neighbor brought a freezer of homemade ice cream to end the fun day.

When the boys left home for jobs, marriage and college, Lester took over the evening display until some grandchildren stepped in, mainly using sparklers to entertain the babies.

Now as I listen to other residents at Morningside and hear how other families spent the fourth, back when we were fairly young, I enjoyed hearing their stories almost as much as I enjoyed telling my story.

Uncle Chess is buried in Arlington National Cemetery, not far from the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I hope he has some fun-loving boys to challenge.