The Heat of the Fourth of July :: Personal Narrative Essays

The Heat of the Fourth of July It was not especially hot that Fourth of July m some(prenominal) years ago, but looking masking it was the heat that impressed itself upon me the most. The true up heat was much more than the temperature. The true heat that I felt was from the long, winding, awe-inspiring chase that the cops gave my friends and me. Let it be said now the moral of this story is to not turn on nursing bottle rockets toward police cruisers the consequences are frightening to say the least. The day was like any other Independence Day in its celebration-the barbecue was on the grill, the family was on the deck, and the good feelings were freely flowing. I chatted with the family, put in the requisite epoch at the kiddies table, and began to feel the spirit of the holiday. It was clear and calm that day, with still no indication of the police-led festivities yet to come, and then it happened an old uncle, rarely seen except for those some occasions when p ublic drinking with the familial unit is acceptable, brought out a bag of things that no self-respecting Fourth of July party-goer is without--the fireworks. Pretty soon the kids, and nonetheless a few adults, were enjoying the pyrotechnic show. Later that evening, as all kids do at some point on the Fourth, my friends and I left the festivities to date some fun. We were not being particularly destructive, yet there was a hint of malicious spirit in our laughter. Walking through the neighborhood, we would shoot rockets at passers-by, houses, and even each other. This half malicious fun continue for several hours, until darkness fell completely, while we waited, not knowing what we were waiting for, very tense and excited. Then the unexpected happened, and when it did, it did so with a shot. The cardinal of us were sitting at a friends house, in his yard, on his porch, wherever we could find a seat, when a cop pulled up to the drive. Now, anyone who has been a teen ager understands the need to rebel, but there also exists an inherent need to attend in the face of armed authority. My friend Chuck obviously further felt like rebelling.