“We’re going to the dykes to watch the hillbillies and fireworks. What snacks should we bring?” This is said nearly every year on our day of independence; Independence Day. There is no good way to describe all the insane things that happen so we’ll just go in whichever order pops into my head.
One year when I was really little, like, four or five, my sister Sam was super sick and I don’t know why we didn’t bring her to the hospital or something but she was puking her brains out and I was so annoyed with her. We had the blanket set up on the hill where we used to watch the fireworks and the night went something like this-
BOOM
(gasp) “Cool"
(retching )
BOOM BOOM BOOM
“Awesome! Sam, look at that one!”
(vomit dripping down her chin, her four year old head weakly rises)
Then, one year, we found this really great spot next to Carousel Skate! Carousel Skate is the most ghetto place in Sioux Falls. It’s a literal ghetto where parents and schools exile their children to fall on a slippery floor. When I was twelve, I loved it.
The grand stands in Sioux Falls are across the river (The Big Sioux) from Carousel Skate and people pay something silly like five bucks to watch the fireworks on bleachers. Well, we would drive out the pick-up behind Carousel Skate and pile a whole bunch of blankets in the bed of the truck and watch the fireworks from the opposite side of the grand stands. For some reason we call this place the dykes. The dykes are the most dangerous part of Sioux Falls, South Dakota for one night as other people have figured out this secret and they light off fireworks in the parking lots, out of their cars, into the river, at each other. It’s magnificent.
The fourth is also Sarah’s birthday and I think that we have a tape of her every year opening presents and eating cake. (For several years she wanted fun-fetti cake with candy corn scattered in and on it. This year was a fun-fetti cake with gummy worms.) I have only found two tapes of Whitney’s birthday. So...
Sarah also went through a faze where she was obsessed with Barbies. Granted, I did as well. That faze lasted for twelve years. So one year, my uncle gave Sarah this super nice, fancy, expensive, collectors Barbie. He said, “Now that’s a collector’s edition one. Make sure you keep that somewhere safe and don’t open it.” Barbie was getting a new hair style half an hour later. Two weeks later, she lost both her shoes. A month later, she was swimming in the Barbie pool with dandelions with significantly shorter hair.
When I was old enough to drive (which was when I was fourteen- Go South Dakota!) my bff Rachael and I would park my car at the dykes SIX HOURS before night fall to make sure that we got the best spot. We would bring games and eat chips and make fun of the people who would trickle in after us. Since we were by the ghetto, at a place called the dykes, where people would shoot roman candles at each other, we were among a crowd that could be described as “trash” but could mostly be described as “South Dakota.” The prarie-billies bring their lawn chairs, their grills, firecrackers, babies; basically, anything they think they might need.
At nightfall, the fireworks begin and Rachael and I have made a game to describe each firework with an appropriate adjective. This year was by far the best year of adjectives and we left with a sense of accomplishment.
BOOM
“Astonishing!”
BOOM
“Meh. Subpar”
BOOM
“Glamorous!”
“Shocking!”
“Good.”
“Seizure inducing!”
“Apocalyptic!”
Rachael would like the record to state that she thought of the last two.
This year was the best year of the prairie-billies as well. First of all, someone drove their eighteen-wheeler out and backed it up to the hill next to the river. There wasn’t any cargo so the family just hung out on the back on the bed. It was sort of like how we do but obnoxious. There were American flag shirts galore. Every time Rachael would see one she would chant, “U-S-A all-the-way!” There were two little girls playing on top of a trailer in one of the parking lots. One family, however, took the cake. They drove out their cherry picker next to the semi and then proceeded to raise themselves thirty feet in the air to see the show across the river. Thirty feet.
The lift went even higher than shown above. And there's the semi...
Notice the two kids giving the thumbs up. Lahv et.
We parked our car on the grass to the left of this photo. This car is supposed to be fifteen feet from the fire hydrant so... Whenever anyone tried to park in front of the the fire hydrant, Rachael would shout, "ILLEGAL! That's illegal." It wasn't so much about fire safety as much as we just wanted to keep the view clear.
When the celebrating our independence is over, we drive back to civilization and hope that my car doesn’t get hit with a bottle rocket. (That happened one time.) What can we learn from the Fourth of July? Sarah was born on a holiday and is still the favorite. Sorry, Whit.
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