Bryan W. Alaspa 1Chicago and the fireworks
July 4th 2009 19:28
If you are looking for the best fireworks in the city of Chicago for the 4th of July and you don’t have a lot of money to go to one of the official shows, I suggest you find a neighborhood loaded with cops and firemen. One thing I learned up growing up where I did in this town is that they have the best fireworks. Technically, of course, it’s illegal for the average Joe to have fireworks and to set them off in their front or backyard. Of course, does anyone really do anything about that? Heck, no.
I grew up in an area near O’Hare. The area is known as Edison Park and it was once advertised as a bit of the suburbs while still being in the city. It is a part of town that juts up like a cement and brick weed into two major suburbs: Park Ridge and Niles. This makes many people think Edison Park is a suburb, but it’s not. If you look at a map of Chicago, you see the little square, like a thumb, jutting up there in the northwest corner and that’s still Chicago.
So, it is very suburban-like but still within the city limits. This means it is Copland. It is also Firemanland. That’s because firemen, cops and city workers have to live within the city limits to have their jobs. Since so many of these people are like everyone else and truly want to have large suburban houses, they come to Edison Park for that feeling while still being within the city.
That meant that, when I grew up, I was surrounded on all sides by cops and firemen. I never had to worry about going far to find a cop in my neighborhood. I mostly had to run next door and pound on the door.
My dad and my brother loved fireworks. We always had a big collection of them every year when we grew up. We would buy them when on a family vacation the summer before or, later on, we would order them via a catalog that would come every year. I also enjoyed setting off the fireworks, but my brother seemed to be the one who really got off on setting the damn things off.
We were safe doing it in my neighborhood. We would gather on the front porch and wait for the fireman across the street to start setting his off in his backyard. Big huge booming explosions would come from there and huge balls of light would light up the sky. We’d look left down the street and see the cops and their families had gathered on their front lawn and were also setting off fireworks of all shapes and sizes. It was time for us to be begin.
I used to wonder if the fireworks the cops and firemen were using were ones they had confiscated from kids throughout the year. I just shrugged and smiled at the idea. That’s what we do in Chicago. We don’t care how you get the fireworks or if they are supposed to be in some evidence locker, we just want you to blow things up and make it look pretty while you’re doing it.
When we stopped setting off our own fireworks, we could still sit on the porch and watch the cops and their families. Inevitably, as the night wore on, people would want to end the show. Sometimes multiple families would get together and drag out a huge metal garbage can. The remaining fireworks would be tossed in, sometimes a squirt or two of lighter fluid was added, and then the sparklers, punks or matches tossed. I am betting an actual missile or some kind of warfare is louder, but this was the loudest thing I have ever heard.
So, if you are wondering where to go, I suggest you head northwest. Find a place surrounded by suburbs, but not in one. I bet you find lots of cops and firemen there. They like to hang out in schoolyards and parks too. Just pull over and enjoy. Bring your own beer.
I grew up in an area near O’Hare. The area is known as Edison Park and it was once advertised as a bit of the suburbs while still being in the city. It is a part of town that juts up like a cement and brick weed into two major suburbs: Park Ridge and Niles. This makes many people think Edison Park is a suburb, but it’s not. If you look at a map of Chicago, you see the little square, like a thumb, jutting up there in the northwest corner and that’s still Chicago.
So, it is very suburban-like but still within the city limits. This means it is Copland. It is also Firemanland. That’s because firemen, cops and city workers have to live within the city limits to have their jobs. Since so many of these people are like everyone else and truly want to have large suburban houses, they come to Edison Park for that feeling while still being within the city.
That meant that, when I grew up, I was surrounded on all sides by cops and firemen. I never had to worry about going far to find a cop in my neighborhood. I mostly had to run next door and pound on the door.
My dad and my brother loved fireworks. We always had a big collection of them every year when we grew up. We would buy them when on a family vacation the summer before or, later on, we would order them via a catalog that would come every year. I also enjoyed setting off the fireworks, but my brother seemed to be the one who really got off on setting the damn things off.
We were safe doing it in my neighborhood. We would gather on the front porch and wait for the fireman across the street to start setting his off in his backyard. Big huge booming explosions would come from there and huge balls of light would light up the sky. We’d look left down the street and see the cops and their families had gathered on their front lawn and were also setting off fireworks of all shapes and sizes. It was time for us to be begin.
I used to wonder if the fireworks the cops and firemen were using were ones they had confiscated from kids throughout the year. I just shrugged and smiled at the idea. That’s what we do in Chicago. We don’t care how you get the fireworks or if they are supposed to be in some evidence locker, we just want you to blow things up and make it look pretty while you’re doing it.
When we stopped setting off our own fireworks, we could still sit on the porch and watch the cops and their families. Inevitably, as the night wore on, people would want to end the show. Sometimes multiple families would get together and drag out a huge metal garbage can. The remaining fireworks would be tossed in, sometimes a squirt or two of lighter fluid was added, and then the sparklers, punks or matches tossed. I am betting an actual missile or some kind of warfare is louder, but this was the loudest thing I have ever heard.
So, if you are wondering where to go, I suggest you head northwest. Find a place surrounded by suburbs, but not in one. I bet you find lots of cops and firemen there. They like to hang out in schoolyards and parks too. Just pull over and enjoy. Bring your own beer.
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