Does anyone remember the early to mid-1960’s, the parades? Kids marched wearing baseball or scout uniforms. The high school band took part. There were majorettes. The Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts led with flags held high. At least one fire truck was in the parade. WWII and Korean War veterans march in their uniforms, some with a perfect fit, others opened as necessary. A handful of convertibles carrying pageant queens and local dignitaries like the mayor and other community leaders. Some cars and trucks joined the parade at the end.
At some point after, we made our way home for family cookouts. Friends and neighbors stopped by. Women would talk; men might have a couple beers. Games like softball, wiffle ball, tag, or maybe catch were played.
As the sun set in the west, we left by car to an open area and searched for the perfect spot to watch fireworks. The local fire departments took care of setting off the display. Most burst in a dazzling display of light. Some went up, flashed, and a cannon like boom could be heard. Special ones twirled in the air with a whistling sound. It all led up to the grand finale. It was a long, spectacular display of color, with loud booms.
When it was over, we walked back to the cars we came in. Younger kids laughed and ran, older ones walked together, talking. Parents seemed content that the kids had a good time. As cars exited the parking area, firefighters stood with fire boots held out for a small donation for next year’s show.
There are no photos with this, and none needed; just lots of great memories etched in our minds of a simpler time.