The 4th of July, the
birth of our country, is a special holiday for me. 45 years ago, was the first
day of the rest of my life. More about that later.
When I was young, the 4th
was an exciting time. We were able to buy firecrackers and cherry bombs and it
wasn’t against the law. Now you could get in trouble for exploding those
things. We keep enacting new laws to protect us from our own stupidity. Granted
we did some stupid things too. We thought blowing up fresh cow pies was fun. We
were careful and the worst thing that ever happened to us, was getting
splattered by an exploding cow pie if we didn’t run fast enough.
I would hate to think
that we were the only kids who blew up cow pies. Admit it, you blew up a few in
your day too. I hope everyone knows what a cow pie is. I realize society has a
lot less contact with those meadow muffins than back when I was young. To put
it into a scientific explanation fit for a family newspaper, a cow pie, also
known as a meadow muffin, is the undigested residue of plant matter that passes
through the digestive system and becomes the waste product of bovine animal
species, in our case, cows.
Now back to blowing up
cow pies. We would stick a firecracker in the center of a crusted cow pie with
a soft center. Then one of us brave, or stupid, souls would light the fuse and
run. The object was to get far enough away so you didn’t get splattered with
manure when it blew. After a while, that seemed too tame, so we would light the
fuse and count to three before starting to run. Then we tried counting up to
four, five, or six before running. Unless you counted really fast, you got
splattered. That didn’t go over very good with Ma, who had to wash our soiled
clothes. After we were able to acquire cherry bombs, it made life more
interesting. Those little buggers could really mangle a cow pie.
I was just thinking,
maybe if I had told the army I used to blow up cow pies, they’d have made me a
demolition specialist instead of a medic. On second thought, they may have
questioned my sanity and decided anyone dumb enough to do that wasn’t needed by
the army. Darn, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
The 4th of July and all
the fireworks aren’t the same for me any more. It will always be linked to
Vietnam in my mind. That was the day I arrived home from the war. I should have
written a story, “Reborn On the 4th of July,” but that title had already been
taken. July 4, 1967 was truly the first day of the rest of my life.
When we landed in
Minneapolis, I wondered if anyone would be there. As I entered the airport, I
saw my father, sister Janet, brother Arden, and a family friend, Lincoln
Stafslien. My father didn’t like driving in cities and had recruited Lincoln to
drive. I’ll always be grateful to him for dropping his family holiday plans and
being there!! Meanwhile, Ma was waiting back at the farm, along with my fiancé
Linda, and her folks, who had driven up from Platteville. They sat on the lawn
watching the fireworks in Westby, two miles away. Every time a car came down
the highway they wondered if it was us.
The ride to Westby is a
blur in my mind. I wasn’t functioning on all cylinders at the time. A week
earlier I’d been sitting out in the boonies on an ambush patrol waiting to kill
people!
As we drove past towns
celebrating the 4th on our way to Westby, I didn’t like the fireworks we saw
exploding in the evening sky. I still don’t like fireworks. We finally arrived
at the farm around 11:00 that evening. The first to greet me was our old dog,
Duke. As soon as he heard my voice he came running and jumped up on me.
When I walked into the
kitchen, it seemed so bright. I’d just spent a year living with little or no
lights at night. As we sat around the kitchen table talking, nothing had seemed
to change while I was gone, and yet… everything had changed for me. I’d lost 40
pounds, my innocence, my idealism, and even a part of my soul. The pounds were
easy to get back. The other parts will never be the same, but I keep looking
for them. The old Howard who had left a year earlier was gone, and July 4, 1967
became the first day of the rest of my life!
Today’s another day and
if I could find some firecrackers or cherry bombs lying around, I might be
tempted to find a nice cow pie and blow that muffin up. Trouble is, I can’t run
very good these days. I think I’d come home smelling like I rolled in a manure
pile and Linda wouldn’t appreciate that. Some adventures are best left to the
young and fast of feet. This old guy will sit back and be satisfied with
savoring the memories, innocence, and excitement of the 4th of July that I
enjoyed as a kid.
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