Ten years old mowed lawns all of June. Spent my entire 6 or 7 dollars on fireworks. Unwrapped everything and had it all arranged on a TV tray.

Took the TV tray into the front yard, parents in lawn chairs ready to enjoy my fireworks display. II sat my tray down on the grass. I set up a bottle, right next to the TV tray.. Inserted a bottle rocket. Lit the bottle rocket. All seven bucks worth went up in under a minute.

I cried.

Dad laughed.

My family likes to get together on our place and burn a bonfire of downed tree limbs and brush on New Year's Eve and again on the 4th.

So a few years ago it had rained and we had wet wood in our burn pile. We dumped some diesel on it and it still wouldn't light. So we dumped a little gasoline on top of that. Nobody wanted to stand close enough to the brush pile to light it, so I got the idea of shooting it with a Roman candle.

Turns out the Roman candle I chose was not the flaming ball Roman candle, it was a cracker Roman candle. So I shot it at the brush pile. The projectile bounced off a stump, came back and my brother's hat off.

We decided on a different way to light the fire after that.

Mini bottle rocket fights

China had a redneck too once



Wan Hu, a local official and poet in the 1500s tried to launch himself to the stars.

47 fireworks/rockets, filled to the brim with gunpowder, were strapped to a bamboo chair. A kite-style parachute was attached to the upper part of the vehicle to allow for Wan Hu's safe decent after successfully reaching the heavens. While this sounds incredibly dangerous, Wan Hu would not be deterred from his mission.

The stage was set, and 47 'rocket assistants' each lit an individual fuse. As the fireworks ignited, a huge roar erupted, and Wan Hu, along with his vehicle, became hidden under a thick veil of smoke. After the explosions stopped and the black smoke dissipated, Wan Hu and his bamboo chair were nowhere to be seen.

What exactly happened to him, no one can be sure of. Either he actually went into space, or was blown to smithereens, or both.

Visited China several years ago. Beautiful culture but the Government is really worthless. Every morning, waking in Beijing, you could not see the sun due to pollution. It was simply an orange glow behind the smog. My nose bled every morning when I blew. If ever a environmental wacko gets in my face....watch out.

agent-maroon said:

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Sharpshooter said:

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In High School one July 4th we took a 12" metal pipe, capped one end and drilled a small hole in the pipe side at the other end. Then, painstakingly emptied hundreds upon hundreds of fire crackers of their powder until we were able to fill the pipe with packed powder then capped the other end. Put a two ft piece of dynamite fuse in the drilled hole (I think the fuse burned at a foot per minute, or 30 sec, or something like that). And, yes, you could order fuse in the mail. Took the contraption to a rural road, lit it, and ran like hell. Heck of a loud bang. Went back next day and found a two ft hole blown through asphalt. Surprised I am still alive after the things we did. Again, being a kid was so fun.

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My friend did something similar with straight up gunpowder and some underwater fuse that his older brother acquired somehow. Drilled a hole just big enough to accommodate the fuse, capped one end of a pipe nipple, filled with gunpowder, capped the other end. Basic pipe bomb 101. I wasn't present, but they buried it to be "safe" and it apparently blew a crater about 4' across and a foot deep. Crazy part of all this was that the gunpowder was bought at a Furr's grocery store which was the same store that I bought my first pistol.

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The s*** we used to be able to buy back then, except on Sunday, due to Blue Laws that never made sense. Can buy the nails but not the hammer? Still life was good and fun and we somehow managed to survive.

I honestly have to wonder if us kids, made to drink our milk and eat our vegetables, had harder heads (when we fell off of monkey bars over asphalt or were repeatedly hit in the head by a water wiggle when we grabbed the hose in the wrong spot.) and robust immune systems when we all drank out of the single garden hose.

Sure, we caused some fires, had a few minor burns, sometimes scared ourselves s***less in the process, had parents that would scold (sometime spank us for being stupid) but I know with my parents they valued one thing above all else for their kids. Freedom to be kids.

Both of my parents worked on the family farms when they were young. Not talking about chores such as clean up your rooms, take out the garbage type of chores, but milk the cows, gather the eggs, slop the hogs, then have breakfast. Go to school, come home, repeat. They gave us freedom to be kids.

Explore, experience childhood. And when we returned home in one piece, no matter the scrapes and scratches, we were still learning. Limitations, physics, "You were playing King of the mountain with bikes riding up the big construction pile of dirt and threw that kid back with his bike all of the way down that hill and his spiked pedal hit him in the head and cut it? Haven't you learned about gravity yet?"

Mom was mad, Dad was covering his mouth because he was laughng. His "baby daughter" had just beaten up several guys and won King of the Mountain.

Here are some pics...





After several years, our cove became the place to be. So much so that the local E TX VFD showed up at our lake house. Not cause they thought we were gonna burn the place down, but they wanted to see the show. Boats would gather and our own "Spirit of 76'" would signal commencement.

One year a shell, that I totally did not fabricate launched from SO76, burst about 10' above a pontoon about 500 yds out. White cracklin fuse lit it up. Thankfully, no secondary. I could hear them yell in excitement and remark "great show" and something about getting their money's worth.

I knew then I had arrived...

To be a kid, again.

I have so many...

I was about 8 and we went to Lake Tenkiller in OK. Evidently, the camp ground we stayed at had a firework Master of Ceremony and my brother and I were quickly overwhelmed by his skills. He was able to launch a couple dozen bottle rockets at once w/ his magic propane torch. I later employed his pyrotechnic genius once I was old enough to buy one.

The festivities started w/ him firing his .357 Mag into the side of a hill while holding a Budweiser.. I give him credit for not being such a neck that he fired it straight into the air. Safety first! Even my Dad was impressed.

What ensued for this 8 yr old was nothing but greatness. A couple of dozen families in circa 1978 unleashed a show I had never seen...

Okay, you win! That was awesome!

Gator92 said:

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I have so many...

I was about 8 and we went to Lake Tenkiller in OK. Evidently, the camp ground we stayed at had a firework Master of Ceremony and my brother and I were quickly overwhelmed by his skills. He was able to launch a couple dozen bottle rockets at once w/ his magic propane torch. I later employed his pyrotechnic genius once I was old enough to buy one.

The festivities started w/ him firing his .357 Mag into the side of a hill while holding a Budweiser.. I give him credit for not being such a neck that he fired it straight into the air. Safety first! Even my Dad was impressed.

What ensued for this 8 yr old was nothing but greatness. A couple of dozen families in circa 1978 unleashed a show I had never seen...

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I was a Sophomore at TAMU, but, not Sophomoric.

Well, it started with fireworks. Went downhill from there.

Before we moved to the country, we lived in a small town, in our part of town the streets were still dirt streets. On one side of our house was an entire city block and another entire city block catty-corner from us, no structures on either one. They did not get mowed with any regularity and were often knee high or waist high in weeds. A group of us boys were in the middle of one of these block doing firecrackers, nothing fancy, just black cat firecrackers.

A guy named Butch had brought a box of kitchen matches and after we ran out of firecrackers, he decided to try to burn tadpoles in a shallow depression holding water. He would strike a match and then shove it in the water at the tadpoles. (He was not overly smart). I suppose one match was slow to ignite and he tossed it on the ground then tried to strike another match. Next thing we knew there was a circle of smoldering and burning grass, about two feet in diameter, It was somewhat windy and before we could put it out, it spread and spread. Two feet became ten feet, ten became twenty. The area where it started was sort of a fort thing where we played alot, so the weeds were sort of stomped down. Once the fire got out of that area, the weeds were taller and thus a lot more fuel. The wind whipped the flames up pretty high so we all ran home.

Both vacant blocks burned to the ground. There were houses on two sides, the side on the other side of the block was more in danger than along out street. Fire trucks fought the blaze and sprayed water on the houses to keep a spark from setting any on fire. The fire sort of took a life of its own. Pretty exciting for some 9 and 10 year old boys.

aggiehawg said:

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I honestly have to wonder if us kids, made to drink our milk and eat our vegetables, had harder heads (when we fell off of monkey bars over asphalt or were repeatedly hit in the head by a water wiggle when we grabbed the hose in the wrong spot.) and robust immune systems when we all drank out of the single garden hose.

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I have had similar thoughts. We grew up somewhere between lower middle class and middle class. We hunted and fished and supplemented store bought stuff with the stuff we killed or caught. Gas was probably 20 cents a gallon, so for a couple dollars we could fill ice chests with shrimp, fish, crabs, and gather sacks of oysters. I got so sick of seafood and I thought it was poor people food because we had it two to four nights a week. Then when one of the Big 8 firms was recruiting some of us, two staff members took 4 of us out and spent like $600 - $700 on seafood and drinks, lol. And that was a long time ago.

Rather than eat seafood while at home, I would eat cereal instead. I drank a lot of milk then, and still drink a lot of milk now. To your point, I fell off my roof (my feet were 10 or 11 feet off the ground so my head was 16 to 17 feet up) when I was 68 and fell most of the way out of my attic recently. Not a single broken bone. Plenty of scrapes and cuts and bleeding, but all bones intact. I think it had something to do with my milk intake growing up, lol.

Great thread by the way, thanks for starting it. Have enjoyed all the stories.

I grew up on the lower Texas Gulf Coast and loved fishing with my dad. Surf wading in 40 degree weather just brining in sheapshead. I love seafood. My family was also in the economy class you mentioned.

Hoping tonight is the best. Got decent seats, thanks to Kool Junior



Didn't suck

Thanks to all who have posted here. Maybe I am being dumb but I thought that remembering our past Fourths would bring many together again. To remember why we loved and had fun this day.

And why we honor it now. God Bless America!

One last thing that The Hubs just told me.

M-80s. His uncle had access as a game warden and they could use use them. They would wrap them in heaey clay, have the fuse stick out sone tied together and chunk them into their grandfathers' shallow pond.
Depth charges in that settng. Didn't just stun fish, they killed them. GrandPa was not pleased.

My love of lighting fireworks, which started somewhere around 5 yrs old and lasts until this day at 58 yrs old (I just went on the street and lit a few off). My dad and uncle owned some land in Ore City in the early 70s, like 1971. I fondly remember going out there from Plano, through Greenville because I-20 was not built yet, and stopping at a fireworks stand in waaay east Texas so my uncle could get Black Cats and then to the beer store for several cases of Schlitz. My uncle would entertain me and my 4 year old sister with crazy firecracker and bottle rocket antics. My dad always bought me a cone fountain because I loved those. Still do.

Half of the fun of fireworks is lighting them, another half is watching them, and the final half is smelling them (channeling Yogi Berra)

When we live in Vegas fireworks were illegal but as long as you were not doing anything stupid cops ignored it. The entire city lights up. Vegas then(2010ish) had a lot of desert all over the city that you could walk out in and it was the perfect spots for fireworks. Some of those spots had abandoned job sights from the real estate crash.

We were on one of thsoe sights and somehow someone had dumped one of those three ish foot tall concrete lane dividers out there you see on the highway. I lit a mortar, tripped on a rock and slammed into that concrete divider chest first.

I drank my way through the rest of the night but by the 7th or so I was at the doctor getting the good drugs for a broken rib. Sucked. That rib hurt for at least six months.

Sharpshooter said:

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I grew up on the lower Texas Gulf Coast and loved fishing with my dad. Surf wading in 40 degree weather just brining in sheapshead. I love seafood. My family was also in the economy class you mentioned.

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I like seafood now, I normally only keep a few when I go, and they go on ice the moment they come off the hook.

We wade fished in the summer, never in cold weather. But your 40 degree weather comment reminded me of when we would go get oysters. Was always so cold and dad would anchor the boat and we would crawl over the side of the boat and onto the oyster reef or next to it and walk until we got on a reef. Maybe waist deep on us kids, I don't remember. Didn't have waders then so jeans, shirt and maybe a light jacket and tennis shoes. We would feel with our feet for the oyster clusters and pry off a few with a pry bar.

I think it was Labor Day. I was setting off fireworks for guests at my home at the edge of a bahia grass field. It had rained the day before, but the winds had been pretty high. I set off something that sent multiple (15?) discharges. The very first one made it fall over and as each went off, it rotated a few degrees. The tall grass had dried enough that fires started with each one and while I was able to stomp out the first 2 or 3, I couldn't keep up. By the time the VFD was done, it burned about 5 acres and about 10 round bales. I make sure to keep lots of water hose around now.

A win:
I shot/edited this video 6 years ago in southern Ohio:

Bottle rocket wars were the best!

We had a bottle rocket war while I was in college and ended up setting my buddies front yard on fire. Neighbors were NOT impressed. It was a dry year in CS.

But my favorite firework memory was when I was in high school. My buddies and I would have artillery shell wars. Light an artillery shell and chunk it at your buddies, what are friends for!?

One friend had a younger brother that always tagged along with him. He was 3 yes younger than us. He lit an artillery shell and was waiting for the perfect target, he waited too long, and while in the throwing motion, the artillery shell exploded. We expected to be picking up fingers and trying to come up with plausible deniability as to our responsibility for the affair, but he must have just let it go from his hand when it went off, because he kept all his fingers and just had a badly burned hand.

We all called him a dumba** and brought up his past dumba** stories. When he was 4, he got a bottle of Advil open and thought they were candy so he ingested the whole bottle of 50 pills. He took a good ragging for quite some time after the fireworks mishap.

That dumba** is now our primary care physician at the local rural clinic! And a damned good one at that!

Listening to my wife during the evening of every July 5 tell me about the new burn patients the burn team will be treating.

Look up Rowdy Radford. It didn't work out so well for him.

I was working on the radio in Fayetteville Ar. Our sales manager was a drunk, cheap ass, sob. He had arranged live remote broadcasts at a ton of fireworks stands leading up to the 4th. But, instead of paying our usual "talent fee" of $75 per hour, he told them it would be alright to pay us 2x "in kind". So, a 2 hr broadcast would net us $150 in fireworks. We were pissed. But, we had tons of product after doing 6-10 of them leading up to the 4th.

Our station location was across from the mall where the community fireworks celebration took place. So, we brought the Screaming Cheetah Wheelies in and had a concert/ party in the parking lot. After the festivities we started broke out our arsenals. The drunk sales manager had a trunk full himself. He managed to get his trunk open, but then kinda froze in place. Essentially passed out standing. We started launching everything we had at him and his vehicle across the lot. Rockets, roman candles and throwing mortar shells at him like grenades. One of our part time jocks was a volunteer firefighter. He was so alarmed that he grabbed his bunker gear from his truck and suited up.

The amount of ordinance we launched at him was epic. I still have visions of being able to only see his silhouette against the brilliant explosions around and underneath his car. Fortunately, none of the rounds ever found his open trunk. It was simply a miracle.

Aside from a "swaying motion" he never moved the entire time he was under attack. As the smoke cleared, he slowly leaned forward and passed out into his open trunk.


That was a fun station though. We had a massive snow storm and decided to build an igloo next to the station and do the morning show from it

My right eye is a miracle. It's almost been put out 3-4 times over the years. Once was when I stuffed 2 black cat type crackers into the used stick of a Roman candle, lit the top one, and it went off. The lower one did nothing for a good minute. Brilliantly I held it up to my right eye to look inside and see if the wick was burning or not and it exploded like 3 inches from my eye, with all the boom directed out of the tube at it. Fortunately just a sting and superficial flash singe.

Some others: in college visiting friends, someone threw a bag full of about 100 chasers into a small fire we had set, and before we had gotten more than a few steps away, they stated randomly flying out at high speed. It was like dodging bullets in the matrix .

Had someone knock over one of those "Saturn 5" blocks of like 100 shrieking chasers packed in a cube. It fell lit fuse facing right at the assembled onlookers, who got bombarded.

Was at a pro firework show in Gettysburg PA in the 4th many years ago, and they were shooting BIG mortar fireworks, and one went sort of off to the side somehow and this giant green sparkly one exploded about 100 yards off the ground about 100 yards from the crowd, and bits showered into the front rows. Those explosions are HUGE up close.

Someone put a mortar firework upside down in a tube once and it blasted everyone in the vicinity with sparks.

My uncle had a streak where one of those spinning fireworks would go rogue and seek him out and hit him every year. One year instead of spinning, one just took off in this long curving arc and went about 30 yards around a corner, and curved into the back porch door right after my uncle had gone inside it.

I will add popping black cats inside a concrete culvert makes a very cool sound effect.