July 8, 2004

What a day for parade and fireworks

By Bill Felker

The afternoon forecast was for rain, but the sky was mostly sunny and the wind was cool.

At the parking lot of the Wright State Medical Center, people and vehicles and floats were gathering for the annual Yellow Springs 4th of July Parade. The Community Band was playing John Phillip Sousa’s “El Capitan,” and the mood was so festive that any person passing by might have thought the circus was in town.

In the middle of everything, young ball players were all set for their ride down Xenia Avenue. Just on the other side of the Cubs and Reds, ladies dressed up in old-fashioned clothes were holding a plastic sign that said “Yellow Springs Historical Society.”

Harold Stancliff was waiting to drive a beautifully restored 1931 Model A Ford.

“This is my mother’s car,” Stancliff said, showing off the leather-upholstered rumble seat. “She’s Clara M. Stancliff, and it’s her birthday — she’s 92 today — and she would have been here, but the weather seemed a little hot.”

Drops of water flew by. Was it raining?

No, it was a float full of young ladies wielding water pistols.

“It’s the beach girls, the Yellow Springs squirt gun brigade,” Bob Welch said.

Music by the Beach Boys blared from the big blue Chevy Silverado that was set to pull the pistol-packing children.

Chad Reed and his children, Youssef and Emma Reed, were among those who watched along the Independence Day parade route.

Hue Snyder-White walked up carrying a bag.

“She bought that candy to give out at the parade,” Susan Bradford said.

Dr. Oops, the clown, was wandering around bouncing little balls. He had on a blue nylon wig, a fat rubber nose, a stethoscope made out of a toilet plunger and giant yellow and green shoes. Although he claimed to be a Yellow Springs resident, he refused to give his real name.

“You can’t let people know who you are!” he said defensively as the Antioch School unicyclists rolled into the parking lot.

Is it hard to learn to ride the unicycle?

“Yeah,” Liana Rothman said.

How does one learn?

“Practice,” she replied.

What happens when you fall?

“If you fall, it hurts,” said Anna Carlson, noting that she had learned to ride a unicycle before she learned to ride a bike.

Bob Morrison, who organized the parade with Dave Triplett, led the procession as Uncle Sam.

At 2:30 p.m. sharp, a sheriff’s car, lights flashing, moved out slowly toward Xenia Avenue, and then came all the players: pickups sporting brightly painted Young’s Jersey Dairy cows; a red 1948 M16 Studebaker truck carrying the Sea Dogs; the Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts; a 1966 Studebaker, one of the last 20 ever made; the Miami Township trustees; a school bus; two Farmall tractors; one Rowcrop 88 tractor; one John Deere; and then fire trucks and rescue squad vehicles, sirens blaring behind the band and the Beach Boys and “The Star-Spangled Banner” — the whole collection rolling down the center of town into the cheers of hundreds and hundreds of residents and visitors.

Those numbers swelled to thousands when it came time for the fireworks at Gaunt Park.

Lining the streets with their cars for almost a mile around the park, families gathered for the festivities throughout the evening, which were sponsored by the Yellow Springs Lions Club. At 10 came two warning booms and flares.

“Those are Blue Thunders,” Ben Pitstick said.

A few minutes later, the sky was transformed by sound and light.

“Those big ones are the six-inchers,” Pitstick said. “They’re really big, six inches around.” He held his hands to show how big.

The six-inchers carried the giant round “Chrysanthemums” and “Peonies” and “Brocades” and “Shells of Shells” that covered the entire eastern sky. One after another, to “ooooos” and “ahhhhhhs,” the fireworks exploded.

Then there was a false finale, multiple Roman candles and “Crackles” and “Fountains” from what Pitstick called the “cakes,” boxes of lesser pyrotechnics that went off in a steady stream.

These were followed by more six-inchers, then five-inchers, then more cakes, then more six-inchers, more five-inchers, four-inchers, three-inchers. There were red “Rings,” “Palms” with their glittering tentacles, wispy drooping “Willows,” “Croissettes” with their swirling secondary flares, “Phoenix and Birds” spinning all around, graceful “Dahlias,” red, silver, gold, green, blue and whistling, booms kabooms, sizzles, pops, bangs, then more two more false closes and the magnificent grand finale.