Vernon F. Larsen Oakland, California Senior Citizen Division First Place Personal Recollection ~~Saga of the Sanpitch Vol. 12
On that July 4th morning, the sun came up with a bang! The neighbor boys had set off five of their largest firecrackers all at \ once. My brother and I realized that this was to be a holiday, in! a sharp contrast to the days working in the hot hayfield. We scrambled out of bed and added to the excitement of exploding our limited supply of noisemakers. Soon the entire city was awake and the noise abated, evidence that the usual chores of a small farm community continued, holiday or not.
While we 1it our firecrackers, my mother had been in the garden picking green peas and scrabbling under the vines for little new red potatoes, a significant part of the July Fourth noon meal. My father had already killed a chicken and dressed it ready for Mother to fry.
At our house, holiday preparations had been going on for days. The mixture of root beer extract, sugar, water, and yeast had been sealed in bottles to provide a beverage treat. The two-gallon ice cream freezer mixed cream, eggs, vanilla, and sugar into a frozen delight that was now packed in ice and blankets in the depth of our cold root cellar. Polished shoes were lined up and ready. Freshly pressed trousers were laid out neatly with white shirts, ties, and new dress straw hats. If there had been girls in the family, Mother would have made each of them a new dress. We were ready.
We walked ten blocks to town, being passed by a rider on a handsome prancing horse, a horse-dram buggy, and a Model "T" Ford, all decked in red, white, and blue trappings--all hurrying to take their places in the parade line-up. In the center of town a colorful crowd was assembling--men and boys in white shirts, women and girls in bright-hued organdy dresses and ribbons. Temporary bunting-decked booths line the sidewalks.
My brother and I each had thirty-five cents to spend. How to choose from among the displayed goodies! Should we buy a red and white popcorn ball? A box of crackerjack? An ice cream cone? Or should it be a cold soda pop? A colored balloon or a patriotic button for our lapel? Before long, we were slowly licking ice cream cones, clutching bottles of creme soda pop, searching in the cracker jack boxes for prizes, and keeping tight hold of the string attached to the inflated red balloon. Only fifteen cents left of our allowances! Here comes the parade!
First, the City Band blared Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever"”, then the National Guard Officers-toting large American and State flags. Next, a brightly decorated Model "T" Ford carrying the Mayor, his wife, and a prominent State Senator, our speaker of the day. There were bands--High School, Military, and Scottish Bag Pipe--interspersed with dozens of horse-drawn boggles, horsemen, and brightly decorated floats furnished by town merchants. Riding on the floats were prominent citizens, pretty girls, and flag-waving children.
Children also rode decorated bikes, trikes, and wagons, some dressed as historical characters, and all smiling proudly. Now comes the fire truck—-the firemen throwing handfuls of wrapped candy chews to the children along the street. What a scramble! Off to the Town Hall to hear the patriotic speeches. The National Guard Band played a medley of marches and stirring tunes. Then there was a prayer petitioning God to bless the leaders of the nation, the state, the town, and all citizens.
The town soprano gave her interpretation of the "Star Spangled Banner.” We were filled with pride that we lived in America! The Mayor welcomed us and listed the town improvements that had taken place since he took office. He introduced the State Senator, who described the writing and adoption of the Declaration of Independence. He told us to be proud we were Americans. But it was hot, and as children do, we wriggled and impatiently waited for some of the freedom we were hearing about. It was a relief to get into the fresh air. We greatly enjoyed the ten-block walk home to our traditional Fourth of July noon meal--fried chicken, creamed new potatoes, and peas, ending with a large serving of homemade ice cream, refreshed further with a glass of tangy root beer.
After dinner, we returned to the afternoon of sports held on the vast lawn of the church grounds. The Master of Ceremonies had a bright armband and a shrill whistle., He used an orange-colored megaphone to announce the events of the day. The first event was a foot race for children five and six years old. The little ones lined up, tense and eager. Parents stood by anxiously. The whistle blew--they scampered to the finish line, and the first three to cross were spotted. Prizes of twenty-five cents, fifteen cents, and ten cents were awarded to the winners. Next was the race for seven and eight-year-olds. I can't remember if my ‘brother won or not. I was too excited about my own group of nine and ten-year-olds. I came in third and proudly added the ten cents to my remaining fifteen cents. Race events continued, including all ages, adults, and a group they called "old folks,” There were special events such as sack races, three-legged races, and relays. Dunking for coins in tubs of water at one end of the lawn was a dripping success.
At three-thirty, the crowd transferred to the park for a ball game with the town north of ours--some by car, horseback, buggy, or shanks mare. For our family, the ball game held little appeal. The day had been long. We were hot and tired. Chores were waiting, so we went home to get them done early enough to go to the band concert and fireworks in the evening.
After changing into work clothes, we fed the horses, cattle, pigs, and chickens; then we milked the cows and gathered eggs. As we worked on these tasks, we heard cheers from the ballpark, re- minding us the celebration was still on. We had our supper of bowls of bread and milk, cold pieces of fried chicken, and dessert of homemade ice cream. We changed back into good clothes again and for the third time walked to the center of town. The High School band was assembled on a platform on the church grounds. We brought blankets to spread on the lawn and relaxed to enjoy the music. We had an excellent view of the fireworks touch-off point in the neighboring schoolyard. The band played some patriotic anthems, but as the sun went down, we were thrilled by the soft tones of "Just a Song at Twilight”, followed by sentimental favorites, "Drifting and Dreaming”, and "Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair", and were saddened by the old war tune, "Tenting Tonight." A tremendous explosion shattered the peaceful moments, followed by another and yet another blast, alerting us to the fireworks display. Showers of sparkling stars burst upwards and fell in brilliant umbrellas down again.
The Crowning touch was a huge re- plica of the American Flag in brilliant color. Then, spelled out in fiery yellow, appeared the giant letters, "GOOD NIGHT." We went to bed remembering the joys of the day, a little apprehensive of the 5100 A, M. rising time in the morning. We were comforted with the thought that in twenty days our hot work in the hayfields would be again interrupted by another gala event. We would be celebrating the arrival of Brigham Young and his company into Salt Lake Valley, as it happened on July 24, 1847. It had been a "Glorious Fourth.” We knew we lived in a land choice above all lands and that the aim of our government was to provide "Liberty and Justice" for all.
Source: Personal recollections of the author.
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