Roman Candles .... one each year
stuck in the ground in that tiny patch of earth that passed for a front yard at my Grandmother's apartment in Chicago, where the stoops of the old buildings were shoved almost up to the busy sidewalk.
We aimed it up and away from everything, sat on the top step of the stoop, and sat for the longest, watching all the wonderful dazzle of brightly flaming streamers bursting toward the sky. It's a glorious memory of my childhood.
It's been many, many years since I've set off any fireworks at all. When I looked up Roman Candles out of curiosity, I saw these real skinny things that really looked like candles. That's not what our Roman Candle looked like at all. Ours were pretty big, as I recall, maybe 3 inches across, and lasted a long time, so they would have had too much explosive material in them to meet modern safety standards ... But I do know that none of us ever got hurt by one, and it's what I automatically think of when someone talks about setting off fireworks.
nostalgia, childhood memories, fireworks, Fourth of July, Roman Candles