After dinner with Stevie and Dennis, I was driven to a big field, oh about 7pm, to meet with 5 other fireworks people (three men, three women)to get our rigorous training. These were no sissy fireworks, but the real deal, mortars and all. Danger and all. Class B.

Now remember, I had just driven in a car filled with $1,100 of strong, mostly Chinese explosives. I wasn't afraid then. Only when we had unwrapped everything, pulled off the covers of the safety ties and been told to carry them close in to our bodies, did I feel a bit of fear.

Dennis showed each of us how to load (no fingers, heads, NOTHING over the lip of the mortar, EVER), light the fuse, run like hell back about 20 yards and watch to see that our own firework detonated, clear the mortar with a long stick with bolts stuck to the bottom to get out burning paper and run back for more. we had to shout,"mortar 1 lit", or, "mortar 2 cleared". It was an orderly progression that let everyone know where to be and if there was trouble. It helped especially the one deciding who got which firework (Dennis). And if one didn't fire....to yell, at the top of our voice, "FAULT" at which point everyone was to hit the ground as fast as possible...(hold breath)...wait to see if the detonation was simply delayed....or......

OK, lessons learned. We had to wait until dark, about 9pm, to actually do our work. I hung out at the festival tents across the rod from our field, ate some good, homemade food, listened to the country rock band, watched the kids play simple "carnie" games for prizes, talked with the friendly folk...and generally had a good time. Dennis disappeared.

Remember something ELSE...it was raining! Even in the rain, the townies were standing along the road watching the show. Rain or shine, these people LOVE their fireworks. For the fusaliers...who were using plastic lights who's flints kept getting wet and not lighting anything-until someone handed us safety matches that I swear will light underwater!

This field we were in, a cut hay field, was wet and in some pots a foot deep in water. Once I lit one of my fuses, turned on my heel to run and fell, splat, right in the mud! I was laughing my head off, it was so much fun. So much fun I never notice the huge mosquitos that were biting me, some in places I didn't know I had. A month later and the scars are just fading.

Here we all were, Dennis at the car handing out fireworks, telling us which mortar to set up, us running and shouting our commands! Fireworks raining down beautiful colors all around us! We were INSIDE the fireworks, so lovely and exciting, the SOUND inside of us!!! I LOVED IT.......FAULT!!!!......(hold breath)...Dennis crept up slowly, staying way beneath the lip of the mortar to see if the fuse had caught. Dennis relit two. Two we're doused with water from buckets set up handy. They were taken away later and burned in a special fire by the Fire Chief. The mosquitos were busy at us all.