Holidays at the Hailey Compound, part 2
The Explosives Yes, we also take part in the annual American ritual of setting off more explosives than used during the Revolutionary War. Fortunately, as I detailed earlier, access to these explosives is conveniently located right next to the gas station/minimart. My cousin and I went into the store, and purchased a small quantity of fireworks which we proceeded to load into his Expedition and take to the house. After our third truck load, we figured we had enough for the evening. Besides, we could always go back the next day for the post 4th sales, if we needed more.
I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but several years ago, I became the man in charge of setting off the fireworks. I think it happened when I came home with a couple of Navy buddies on leave, and we bought some fireworks to set off. I don't even think it was the 4th of July, but we just wanted to blow something up. We arranged a little show, setting everything up by the lake on a neighbors dock, and had a wonderful time. Ever since then, when it comes time to risk the loss of a minor body part, I was the designated victim.
Normally, I spend an hour or two setting up the show, placing the morters and the aerials, staging punks, flashlights and lighters, but I couldn't do much set up this year because we were in a weather pattern where it rained each night at about 7:30 , and then let up about 9:00. Obviously that would ruin any fireworks left out. So, I only had a half hour to set up the show before it got dark.
This year, I decided to do something different, and use a large table to set up the fireworks. That way I wouldn't have to be stooping over the tubes as I lit the fuses. I set up a couple of saw horses, then laid a 2'x6' sheet of 3/4" plywood between them. I set up my morters, and the first half of the aerials, and was ready to rock.
I thought.
Quick fact about a 2'x6' piece of plywood. It may seem rigid, but that bad boy is about as stable as Robin Williams on cocaine.
Everybody assembled for the show, and I lit off the first few displays with no problem. Then I set off the first brace of mortars. Now, I usually light three at a time to get a better effect. Fortunately, this time I was dealling with a stubborn fuse, and I only got one lit before having to move out of the way. When the mortar went off, the shell flew into the sky, as did the tumortar tube, and the two tubes beside it. That plank buckled under neath the impulse, and then sprang back, throwing fireworks everywhere. NOt a good thing. I stabilized the table, and moved the mortars to the ground and continued the show. Things were going fairly well, but there were a couple more surprises in store for me.
About 10 minutes into the show, I had just lit the fuse for a triple shot shell, and backed away about 10 feet for the blast. I heard the bang, but noticed something odd. The belch of flame I usually saw at the top of the tube as the shell exited was missing. I quickly realized that the shell had lodged in the tube, and we were about to witness a very bad thing. With cat like reflexes, I threw my body over the tube, absorbing the force of the explosion in my rock hard abs, saving the lives of the kids who were watching the show. I was a hero! OK, maybe not. Try this one:
Feeling like I was moving in slow motion, I ran over to the tube, picked it up and ran to the edge of the lake. I heaved the tube into the lake, and just as it hit the water, the shell detonated, showering me with water and bits of wet paper. I was a hero!
OK, so it wasn't exactly like that either. The truth this time: I froze and waited for the inevitable with my eyes closed.
Let me tell you about these new triple shells; they pack some punch. The tube was made of rolled cardboard, with a wall thickness of close to 1/2". When that shell blew, it destroyed the tube, and sent me back a step or two. It' was the first time I ever felt a blast impact. I once again have a profound respect for fireworks. I checked the kids and made sure they were OK, but couldn't find my youngest son, who had been helping me by holding the flashlight while I arranged things. The other kids were still there, but he had vanshed. Then he came walking around a bush about 10 feet away, looking scared, but unhurt. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than 5 seconds, so, near as I can figure, he teleported behingd the bush as soon as the sound of the explosion reached him. He came up to me and said,"Daddy, I know why you don't let me set off fireworks now. Thank you."
I was a little shaken, but the show must go on, and there were lots of fireworks left. I didn't set off anymore of that particualr shell tyoe, and we didn't have anymore incidents. I'm thinking about retiring from the fireworks game, and passing it on to somebody a little younger, a little quicker, a littel dumber. Of course, after a year passes, I'll be raring to go again. I've already figured out how to brace the table, stabilize the mortars, and I'm working on a way to remote detonate the fireworks, like the pros do.
Posted by Rich at July 9, 2002 7:00 AM