"July is a thirty-one day Midwestern bonfire"
Lynn Ruth

The fourth of July was my favorite holiday when I was a child. The year I was six, my mother and her sisters decided to organize an extravagant family picnic in Walbridge Park. “We can each bring the dish we make the best,” said my mother. “I’ll make the chocolate cake “

“Good,” said Aunt Hazel. “I do a mean potato salad. I put pickle juice, capers and peanut butter in it. I’ll bring that.”

“Harry ordered a lot of ice-cream for the drugstore,” said Aunt Tick. “And he must have twenty cans of chocolate sauce in the basement, not to mention the bags of chopped nuts and crazy ice cream flavors. He’ll never sell it all. We’ll bring what’s left to the picnic and make spectacular ice cream sundaes for everyone. I’ll whip some cream before we leave and bring that along, too.“

“The ice cream won’t be anything but melted soup and the cream will curdle in this heat,” said my mother. “Why don’t you bring the baked beans? I. R. just loves them.”

“Baked Beans makes everyone gassy,” said Aunt Tick.

“So what?” said my mother. “We’ll be outdoors shooting firecrackers. No one will guess where the explosions are coming from.”

Aunt Tick shook her head. “Harry will know,” she said. “He has a very sensitive nose. Count on us for ice cream. We’ll pack it in dry ice.”

“We can have corn instead of beans,” said my mother. “If you bake it in the husk on the grill, it’ll be delicious. We can all meet at our house at noon and then drive to Walbridge Park. It’s a long way and we need to give the children time to play on the swings for a while to work up an appetite.”

“I think we should take the animals, too,” said Aunt Hazel “I don’t like to leave Sparky in a hot house all afternoon.”

“Pee Wee would just love to play in a park, too,” said Aunt Tick. “But who can watch the dogs while we’re getting the picnic set up? Jessica has just started walking. I don’t think I can trust her to hold on to the dog’s leash.”

“Lynnie Ruth can do that for you,” said my mother. “And Friedell can keep Sparky under control.”

The Fourth that year was even hotter than usual. That morning my mother made Daddy’s morning toast by placing it butter side up on the porch step and perked the coffee by standing it in the morning sun. Aunt Hazel swore she boiled the potatoes for her salad by setting the pot out in the afternoon sun the day before. My mother dressed me in a white sun-suit with red ruffles on the straps and around the legs. “You are going to have to take care of Pee Wee for Aunt Tick,” she said.

“I’m afraid of dogs,” I said. “Why can’t Uncle Harry do it?”

“Uncle Harry wants Daddy to help him with his golf game,” explained my mother. “He and Uncle Jack think daddy is a pro. But we know better don’t we? Do you want red ribbons or white ones in your braids?”

“Both,” I said. “Peewee barks very loud. I’d rather be a wife and make dinner instead of watching the dog.”

“It’s a lot more complicated to be a wife than it is to watch a little dachshund,” said my mother. “You’re going to have to learn to be very strong if you want to grow up to be a wife.”

I stuck out my lip and sniffled. “It doesn’t look that hard to me,” I said.

My mother‘s face hardened. “Trust me Lynn Ruth,” she said. “Walking a dog is a piece of cake compared coping with a man.”

Aunt Tick pushed open the back door with her shoulder. “Can you help me, Ida?” she called. “I need someone to watch Jessica so she doesn’t fall off the porch while I load the ice cream and chocolate sauce into the trunk of the car. Peewee is running round in circles chasing his tail. I don’t think ham and eggs agree with him”

“What does ham and eggs have to do with it?” asked my mother.

“Well, I put out the eggs and ham to cook on the back step and Peewee got it. Poor Harry had to eat Rice Krispies instead and he is in a foul mood. He didn’t even smile when it crackled and popped. I asked him to help me carry the food to the car but he said he wanted to discuss his game with I. R.”

Aunt Hazel stormed into the house. “I cannot believe my husband,” she said. “He is standing on your front lawn practicing putting with I. R. and Harry while I drag casseroles, plates and picnic supplies from our car to yours. Sparky is crying because I tied him to a tree and Lois Ann bit Friedell.“

“You mean SPARKY bit Friedell,” said Aunt Tick.

“No. Lois Ann. She has absolutely no self-control. I don’t know what I’ll do with her when she gets into school. She’ll probably finish off two children before recess.”

“You could try fitting her with a muzzle,” said my mother. “Or else pull her teeth.”

“But she just got them!” said Aunt Hazel. “Is it my imagination or do I smell those hot dogs sizzling in the sun?”

“I’ll put them in the trunk right now,” said my mother. “If everyone is ready, I think we better get started. The children and the animals can go with us and you four can drive in the other car. ”

My three cousins, the two dogs and I crawled into the back seat. My mother turned around to look at us and smiled. “How about practicing a few patriotic songs to get us in the mood?” she asked. “After all, it IS our country’s birthday, ‘Yankee Doodle went to town…”

When we got to the park, our perspiration had glued us all together into a sweating mass and the dogs were panting as if they had been on a desert for twenty-four hours. My mother opened the door and we tumbled out. “Who would like a little ice cream now to cool off?” she asked..

She opened the trunk of Uncle Jack’s car and hauled out the steaming cartons of ice cream. She pulled off the bags of dry ice and handed each of us a bowl and a spoon. She opened the first carton of ice cream and frowned. “What flavor is this?” she asked. “It’s a terrible shade of green.”

“Pistachio mango cream,” said Uncle Harry. “It’s brand new.”

“Does it go with chocolate sauce?” asked my mother.

“It goes with EVERYTHING,” said Uncle Harry. " It was very popular at the drugstore.”

“Then why do you have so much left over?” asked my mother.

Uncle Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Oh Ida,” he said and he laughed. ”You are such a kick.”

My mother hacked off chunks of ice cream and filled our bowls. “Eat a little now," she told us. "And then play on the swings. By the time you finish your games, dinner will be ready.”

“I think Jessica wet her pants,” I said. “And Lois Ann just bit Sparky.”

“You mean SPARKY bit Lois Ann,” said my mother.

I shook my hand head and pointed to the tiny Cocker Spaniel licking his paw. Lois Ann was standing over him her teeth bared and her foot raised to kick the puppy. “This is MY ice cream, you son of a bitch,” she said.

My Aunt Hazel galloped over to her youngest child and pulled her away from the family pet. “And where did you get THAT expression, young lady?” she asked.

Lois Ann squirmed to get out of her grasp. “Daddy said it to Uncle Harry when they were playing poker,” she said.

“Is that why Jessica wet her pants?” I asked.

“That’s just sweat,” said Aunt Tick.

My mother looked over at the three men. They were all standing in a grassy area swinging their golf clubs to practice their drives. “Head down,” said my father. “You couldn’t hit the side of a barn with that swing, Harry.”

Uncle Harry swung and watched the golf ball arc over three trees into a large structure at the edge of the park. “I just did,” he said.

“Isn’t anyone going to help us haul these boxes of food over to the grill?” asked Aunt Tick.

“I will,” I said. “If someone else will hold Pee Wee. He just wet my shoe.”

“You can’t drag that box with the plates and silverware in it. I wonder if one of the men can help?” said my mother.

All of us looked once more at the three men. Uncle Jack was swinging now. “If you stick to it, Jack, and listen to my advice, you won’t need that 6 handicap,” said my father.” Watch.”

“That was one great swing, I. R.” said Uncle Harry. “You must have hit that ball 600 yards.”

Aunt Tick turned to her two sisters. “Do you feel neglected?” she asked. “I can’t believe those men. All they can think about is their golf game.”

“I think that’s one of the side effects of marriage,” said Aunt Tick. “It takes real courage to make a man live up to his responsibility.”

”As much courage as it did for our founding fathers to throw all that tea in the harbor?” I asked.

“Isn’t she bright?” my mother said and then she turned to me. “The power of persuasion is mightier than muscle, Lynn Ruth. Let’s see how good you are at it. If you can get your father to him help us haul the boxes of food over to the tables, you are strong enough to be an independent woman.”

“Hold Peewee,” I said.

I ran over to my father and whispered in his ear.

Immediately, my father put down his golf club and ran over to my mother. “What can I do to help you, honey?” he asked.

He lifted up the picnic hamper and two cases of drinks and hurried over to our picnic site. “Anything else you need, girls?” he asked. “Why don’t I start building the fire in the grate so you can cook the wieners while I get the firecrackers ready for the big show.”

My mother just stared at him. She leaned down and picked me up in her arms. “What did you say to your father to get him over here so fast?” she whispered.

I blushed. “I told him that if he didn’t help you right this minute, you were going to tell the uncles what his golf score was yesterday.”

My mother nodded to my aunts. “I told you she was clever,” she said.

And so on every Fourth of July after that, when everyone else celebrates our country’s independence, I celebrate mine.

"The first strike for freedom can happen at any age."
Lynn Ruth and Thomas Jefferson