My Most Memorable 4th Of July

For years, the A&E network broadcast a show called “Pop Goes The Fourth” live from Boston, starting around 7:30p.m. and running through until around 10:00p.m. or so. There were musical guests and performances by the Boston Pops Esplanade Orchestra in which they played a wide variety of tunes, sprinkled with a generous portion of patriotic melodies. They were especially famous for their rendition of Tchaikovsky’s "1812 Overture," complete with booming fireworks and exploding cannonades. The festivities always culminated with one of the most spectacular fireworks shows I have ever seen… synchronized to music. Remember, I was watching all of this on TV and was impressed by its grandeur, I could only imagine what it would be like to experience it in person. I always told everyone that one thing I wanted to do before I die was to be in Boston on the 4^th of July to experience this “party” firsthand.

Now, I realize there are similar events…that are just as impressive…that take place in every major city in this great land of ours, but I was most familiar with Boston’s 4^th of July party because of the exposure it received on A&E. So, back in 1999, I got my brother, Harold, and sister-in-law, Patty (whose birthday just happens to be July 4^th) to watch the show. Afterwards, Harold told me if I wanted to plan a trip to Boston for the following summer, they were on board.

So, during the winter and into the spring, we made our plans. You must understand, we are a baseball family, so once I knew for sure the trip was on, I started checking baseball schedules for teams en route to Boston. The Red Sox were out of town, so no luck there, but the Phillies and Mets were playing at home, so I was able to get us tickets for a Friday night game between the Phillies and Pirates and the Saturday day game between the Mets and Braves.

Harold and Patty rented a car and drove to Cincinnati to pick me up on Thursday, June 29^th. Now, it probably would have been easier for them if I had gone in their direction, but I happened to have Reds tickets for a day game that day…not just any tickets mind you. I had Marge Schott’s seats (former owner of the Reds) in the second row behind the Reds on deck circle. I was close enough I could have reached out and touched the guys' nice, firm butts. I didn’t, but I was close enough. Oh, I guess I should also mention that the Reds were playing the Cardinals and that was back when Mark McGwire was with the team, and I had a thing for McGwire and...welll...blah, blah, blah.

After the game, I hurried home to meet up with H&P. We loaded my stuff into the car and we were off on our Boston adventure. Harold and I split the driving time and that first night we made it pretty far into Pennsylvania. We got into Philadelphia with enough time to spare on Friday to allow us time for a nice lunch, a visit to the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall and a carriage ride through the historic district before heading over to the stadium for the ball game.

I don’t remember much about the game that night other than the fact that Randy Wolf pitched for the Phillies, and he had a fan following called the “Wolf Pack.” They were an absolute hoot to watch. They dressed up in wolf masks and sat in the upper deck and danced and pranced about when he struck out batters and such. It was fun. The Phillies had a pretty impressive fireworks show after the game, but that was just a prelude of what was to come.

The next morning, we were up and on the road early in our quest to get to Shea Stadium for the Mets game. My sister-in-law had never seen the Statue of Liberty, and that was the only request she had made of this entire trip…she wanted to see the Statue. She didn’t necessarily want to take the boat over to the Statue, she was content just to admire it from a distance. So, Harold had mapped out the route that took us into the park where you caught the ferry over to Lady Liberty. We got out and looked around, Patty got to see the Statue and when we turned around, there was a spectacular view of Manhattan…including the World Trade Center.

Then it was back in the car and a drive through Manhattan to Queens and Flushing Meadows. Ah, if it had only been that simple. I was the pilot…Harold was the navigator. Actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Granted, it is not a trip I would care to make alone...driving through New York City. We made a few wrong turns and had to double back a couple of times, (I think we crossed the same bridge…like…six times) but eventually…and without a lot of yelling and screaming at one another…we found our way to Shea Stadium before the first pitch.

We were squeezed-in like sardines in our upper deck seats, Mike Piazza hit a monster home run, and they played “Macho Man” as he circled the bases. That was the first time the Braves had been back in New York following the racist comments Braves pitcher John Rocker had made about New York and the people who rode the Number 7 train to the ballpark, so security was tight. There were a couple of Braves fans sitting in front of us and they looked scared…didn’t open their mouths throughout the game. I mean, if you're gonna be brazen enough to wear the opposing team's colors in their ballpark; especially Braves get-up after what Rocker said, then you better be prepared to take a little verbal razzing.

After the game, Harold drove us to the next stopping off point…somewhere in Connecticut. The thing we remember about this leg of the journey was, as we were driving along this very busy expressway…I mean there were five or six lanes of traffic going in each direction…we were passed by a couple of guys on motorcycles. Now, what is significant to note is, they passed us “between” vehicles…not from their own, individual lane. Then, as they were speeding along…Harold said we were going 70 mph, so who knows how fast these nitwits were going…one of the guys STOOD UP on his bike and proceeded to “ride” like that for several seconds. (Remember my mantra…idiots and assholes…they’re everywhere.) We still talk about this…lunatic. Only time on the trip I recall "white knuckling" the dashboard; if this moron would have wiped out, he would have taken a whole lot of people with him.

Anyway, we arrived in Boston on Sunday in time to do a little sight-seeing. We started walking the “Freedom Trail” and went back and picked up where we left off and finished the tour on Monday. We got to see things I had only read about or seen pictures of…things like Boston Common, Old North Church, the site of the Boston Massacre, the USS Constitution (“Old Ironsides”) and the Charlestown Navy Yard. I was a history major in college, so I ate up this stuff with a spoon. All that walking about killed me, but it was worth it, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to do it then because there is no way I could do it now.

The next day, Tuesday, was the 4^th of July. Now, I had read and researched this event for years and I knew that in order to get the absolutely BEST “seats” in the pavilion area…you had to get there early…like by five or six in the morning. There was no way H&P were going to do that, so I contented myself with getting there around 8:00a.m. The pavilion was full by then, but we did find a nice shady and grassy spot along the Charles River, not too far removed from the stage area. We had brought a cooler with us, but luckily there were food vendors and restroom facilities close-by.

It was a long day, however, waiting for the show to start at 7:30p.m. Patty and I took a boat ride along the Charles River and the harbor to break up the monotony while Harold remained behind to “guard” our little spot of grass to which we had laid claim. By the time the show started, the river was lined with boats and the riverbank was crowded with people. Back then, they estimated that…approximately…750,000 people attend this event. Now it is closer to a million. That’s just wayyyyyyyyy too many people, folks. I could not handle that crowd today.

But I did then…and it was great. Granted, I would have liked to have found a space inside the pavilion where I could have seen the stage, but I got to hear the music…most of it...and got to hear those canon…in person…when they exploded in perfect synchronization with the "1812 Overture." And I got to see that splendiferous fireworks extravaganza in person. In short, I got to be in Boston on the 4^th of July…before I die. One thing I can check off my "Bucket List."

The trip back to the parking lot…on a CROWDED subway…is worthy of an entry of its own. I mean, everyone arrived intermittently throughout the day, but once the party was over…everyone headed home at the same time. I’ve never seen or experienced anything like it in my life. There is a reason I live in a “relatively” small town. Cincinnati is sometimes…most times…too big for my liking. There is no way I could handle living in a city like Boston or New York.

The next day, we slept in a bit, then drove in to Fenway Park to take a tour of the ballpark. The two kids…and they were high school and college-aged young men and lifelong friends…who conducted the tour knew more about Red Sox history than the most wizened baseball historian. They told great stories about the park and players and superstitions and curses. We got to sit in the Red Sox dugout. I have a picture of my brother sitting in that dugout that has seen the likes of Carl Yastrzemski, Carlton Fisk, and Louis Tiant. He was 56 years old at the time and looked like a giddy twelve-year old…grinning ear to ear…in that photo. It’s one of my favorite pictures of him. I, myself, who shy away from the camera…with good reason…actually requested to have my picture taken in front of the “green monster.” No one will ever see it but me, but it does exist.

All in all…it was a good day…a great trip, but it wasn’t over yet.

When we left Boston the following morning, we drove across the state of New York to Cooperstown. Yep, our predominantly baseball vacation culminated with a visit to that most hallowed of all baseball venues…The Baseball Hall of Fame. That was a couple of years after Mark McGwire had broken Roger Maris’s single season home run record of 61 by blasting a total of 70 dingers in 1998. That was pre-steroid accusations and denials and congressional hearings and not being forthcoming with answers and such, however.

There was a significant display of McGwire paraphernalia at the HOF. After I looked around all I wanted, you know, checked out the Reds stuff…especially Johnny Bench, I sort of naturally gravitated back to the display on “Big Mac.” I was just sitting there, obviously look a wee bit moonstruck at the bat and glove and uniform and spikes (he had HUGE feet) that were featured in this tall, circular, glass enclosure when this man walks up to me. He looked at me looking with longing at the McGwire exhibit, and he said, “Have you had your picture taken beside it yet?” I told him no, and he offered to do the honors, so I handed him my camera and I did the “standard” pose by the glass display and the nice gentleman took the picture.

Then, on impulse, I said, “Just one more.” And then I actually wrapped my arms around the display as far as they would go and “kissed” the glass…thank God no alarms sounded…and he snapped that photo as well. Hey, I figured that was the closest I was ever gonna get to the man, so why not? Turns out, I did have another opportunity…sort of…but that is a story for another time.

Oh, and I have to say that, for an institution that stalwartly refuses to "formally" induct one Peter Edward Rose into its austere midst, the man's name is plastered all over the place. He played the game, he accumulated the stats, he made the records. Yeah, he screwed up and bet on baseball. He's a schmuck in real life, but he was one hell of a ballplayer. So...like...get over it already. (I'll climb back down off my soapbox now.)

Next day, we drove back to Cincinnati and Harold and Patty drove on home to South Point. So, that brings to a conclusion the novella that was our baseball/4^th of July vacation back in 2000. I enjoyed recounting it…remembering the fun we had. I, of course, did a YouTube search and found a couple of Boston Pops videos from previous 4^th of July celebrations. It will get me in the mood for watching "A Capitol Fourth" later this evening.

The first video is by JimTheUmp and features the "Star Spangled Banner" and the end of the "1812 Overture" and the second one is by ZobVa and features "Stars & Stripes Forever."




Okay, that's it for the day. I'm officially done "flag waving."