...Blow Your Head Off

...Blow Your Head Off

Caution: Based on true story. Contains gore.

It's all fun and games...until you blow your head off!

Before the nineteen sixties, before I made this my home, our lovely town was known for stately elm trees canopying the main street north of the river. But a deadly elm tree disease raged through infecting them all. The ones not killed quickly succumbed to progress as the street was widened to four lanes instead of two for the thoroughfare through town. The men's garden club decided to beautify the landscape by planting a few flowers. That project soon turned into lovely bright pink petunias lining all the main highways in the city.

When my dad took a job at the local mental health asylum before he moved the rest of us here I remember him sending us a postcard showing the streets lined with petunias sweeping under the Memorial Arch with the name of the town emblazoned upon it, another landmark of the town. When our family arrived that was the first sight I saw of our new home.

As the plantings increased a petition was made to the state and soon the community of 15,000 was dubbed 'The Petunia City'. In a short time an annual celebration was created to honor the designation called the Petunia Festival held around the Fourth of July. The festival midway games and rides along with arts and craft or car shows, Bingo and a beer garden with live bands attracted huge crowds from all over. It even became renowned enough that a popular game show in the early seventies, the Dating Game, presented a trip to the Petunia Festival as the grand prize to the winning couple! Welcomed as dignitaries, the excited couple became the grand marshals of the parade that year. I'm sure the experience made a lasting impression on them. The party always ended with a spectacular fireworks display locally provided by a certified trained family who volunteered their services.

In my teenage years in a town without a lot to do other than cruising Galena Avenue from Peoria Avenue to the south to Lowell Park Road to the north back and forth, not counting stopping to sit at the courthouse corner to wave at other cruisers, the fourth of July Petunia Festival was a the highlight of the summer. Lots of fun and games. Walking the midway hand in hand with someone special. Hawkers trying to get him to win you a prize. Stealing a kiss on top of the Ferris wheel. Eating elephant ears and corn dogs. Feeling nauseous after the spinning rides. Participating in the talent contest. Dancing to the music. Watching the marching bands compete.

In my very young motherhood years it was a struggle to get all my children downtown at least for the fireworks. This particular year stands out in my memory. My husband was a police officer on a small police force over stressed as the population exploded on those few days. He was not available to help much with the family. We may have taken the little ones to Kids Day for a short time to ride the kiddie rides. The carnival company often compted the force a few free coupons. And I may have gotten my younger sister to walk the few blocks from my parents' house to the parade route along side me with the stroller and the other two in tow. What little ones don't love a parade? But for the fireworks I was on my own. Anyway I don't remember planning to go with anyone else.

My high-school-sweetheart husband and I had four kids in five years back in the early seventies. I believe their ages at the time must have been five, four, two and I was expecting my bicentennial baby. Exactly why I thought it was even necessary to attend those sparklers on my own with all those babes, in my condition, I'll never know.

The festival is held on the high school grounds along the river. A lovely setting for the fireworks reflecting over the river. Trouble is there aren't any parking lots close by which means street parking wherever and however close you can get. The viewing is great if you can get to standing room only on the bridge, otherwise it is, well, up in the air. Hard to tell until the blossoms start exactly where you can see them from due to trees blocking most displays. Over the years one thinks they have it figured out then the organizers suddenly decide to change the venue starting point. I can not tell you how many different viewing spots we have selected or rejected.

Anyway, back to my waddling all over town stroller and two cranky, tired toddlers in tow. Ah, nice grassy spot at end of bridge big enough for blanket and maybe a shot at seeing something. Hope the noise isn't too scary for my tots. (For some reason I am remembering when I was little I never wanted to get too close for fear a spark might land on me. Anytime I saw someone in a wheelchair I wondered if that is what happened to them.)

“Hello, Mary, so nice to see you.” My musing was interrupted by a somewhat familiar voice. Oh, great my old boyfriend! Wouldn't you know haven't seen him for years and he finds me looking oh-so-fine!

“Hi, Joe. Great to see you, too.”

“You remember Maureen, right. Her family moved into the old Victorian farmhouse you used to live in. We got married. We are expecting our first baby. Looks like you have another on the way. Are all of these yours?”

“Can never have too many. Congratulations to both of you. They have a way of changing your life. But in a good way.”

“Well, enjoy the show. And best of luck to you.”

“And to you, too.”

Ah, the bombs, er, booms have started, thank goodness!

My little troupe actually were enjoying the action. Even with all the noise and commotion around us. Seemed it was ramping up then suddenly it all went silent. There was an extremely long pause. Way longer than I ever remember between starbursts. The crowd noticed and seemed to get fidgety and restless. That display was far shorter than usual and there was no grand finale when they send up multiples at one time. Were they that short on funds this year? Sometimes they would send out donation seekers to pay for next year's display. No one had been around to our corner yet. And the time dragged on. And on.

Suddenly, you could here the wails of ambulances. Oh, no! Something bad must have happened. They are headed to the area the fireworks are detonated. That is not good. Not good at all...

There was mumbling among the crowd. It was obvious the show was over for the night and people started drifting away. Scratching their heads and wondering why. I gathered my crew and we started our trek back to our vehicle.

My husband knew. And it wasn't good. The young man in charge of lighting off the display had a problem with one tube. No one present actually saw the moment it happened but he must have been leaning over the faulty tube looking for the problem when it exploded in his face decapitating him. All the witnesses could immediately see was him engulfed in smoke.

I didn't know it at the time but this man lived in our neighborhood. His two children went to school with my children. His widow never did remarry and passed away a few years ago. She was a very strong woman to survive what she did and raise her children on her own.

The tragedy was also devastating to the Petunia Festival. The pall pulled the fireworks off the agenda for years afterwards. The event will turn sixty years old this summer. Yes, it is all fun and games until someone blows his head off...