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Dear Friends of the Good Old Days,

The Fourth of July and fireworks are like love and marriage: Let me tell you, brother, you can't have one without the other (as the old song goes).

History records that the first celebration of Independence Day was held in Philadelphia on July 4, 1777, one year after the Continental Congress officially adopted the Declaration of Independence. The City of Brotherly Love adjourned Congress and marked the day with bell ringing, bonfires, and yes, fireworks.

Some church bells still peal loudly on the Fourth of July, and I'm sure that some towns still celebrate with bonfires, but is there anywhere in our fair land where you can't see a fireworks display on Independence Day? I hope not.

When I was a youngster, my brother, sister, cousins and friends rarely got to see a fireworks display. We lived out in the country and the day was marked with swimming, watermelon and the setting off of the few firecrackers we could afford to buy.

Later, when I was late in my teenage years and times were a bit better, I jumped in my old Ford, picked up my "best girl" -- Janice, of course -- and drove the 25 miles to the nearest town that had a fireworks display. Janice and I reclined on a quilt on the ground and bathed in the glow of the celebration of our country's birth. Still later we made Independence Day special, taking our children to displays that were more and more elaborate. Now the blankets were on car hoods or in the back of pickups so little ones could see over the crowds.

Then we adopted our own tradition, returning to those Janice and I enjoyed in our youth. When the crowds became too large and the displays too noisy, we started holding a Fourth of July celebration on the farm. Our extended family still lives close enough for all to join us. The day is marked with swimming (at least for the younger set), a barbecue (with me as the chief chef and Janice in her "I Love the Cook" apron), and then watermelon in the evening.

Our middle daughter and my son's wife oversee our family fireworks display, making sure that little ones are safely out of range. Across the hill from the old home place another family has joined our little celebration, and we take turns setting off rockets, Roman candles and the like -- a friendly competition to see whose display has the greatest "wow" factor.

Janice and I still like to recline on a quilt and watch, even though it's harder to get down and up. As we watch three generations celebrate freedom and our country's birth, we hope and pray fireworks and the Fourth of July continue to light warm summer nights with the traditions of the Good Old Days.

'Til next time,

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