I got one last story about fireworks.

In my youth, my family's buddies was a Polish family named Barranowski that lived up on the next ridge. They lived in an ancient farmhouse that seen duty as a field hospital during the Civil War. They had cows and chickens, etc.

They were very unsophisticated and bohemian but they were very patriotic. Every year the old man would buy the biggest damned wooden crate of fireworks you ever saw to celebrate the fourth of July. It seemed to me at least 6 feet long by 3 feet wide by 4 feet high.

Everybody was invited to their house to set them off. At near dark he would personally pry the lid off of that crate and start handing stuff out to everybody that came even if they were 4 years old. They were more concerned with having a good time than with safety.

In addition to the huge sky rockets, roman candles and fire crackers, there were goodies in there like the mule kick.

I particularly liked something we called a ni**er chaser. You would light one and throw it into the crowd. It wobbled around in circles, hugging the ground, shooting between peoples legs and whistling like a banshee. When it was spend it made a tremendous crack and everybody jumped.

We would hang around until they were all gone around midnight. That is one of my best childhood memories.