The Fourth, Midwest-Style


Here we are again on another  Fourth of July in Ames, Iowa — the heart of the Great American Heartland.  You have to trust me on this — there’s nothing quite like celebrating a  Fourth  in a Midwestern small town.

For starters, small-town Fourths around these parts somehow seem more authentic — more personal — more patriotic. We’ve lived all over these United States and spent Fourths in many big cities. None of them gave us the good vibes that Ames has given us these past few years on this holiday.

This year’s  celebration of the Fourth started, of course, on the Third, with our annual city fireworks extravaganza outside Jack Trice Stadium at Iowa State University. We first saw this one 40 years ago, during our initial year in Ames. We were only in town a couple of years — it got cold during the winter, you see — but this fireworks display seems to have never changed.  It continues to delight thousands who make their way to the stadium parking lots, set up their lawn chairs, and look toward the southeast as the pyrotechnics unfold around 9:45.

This year’s fireworks were dicey because a tremendous — even by Midwestern standards — thunderstorm rumbled and shook its way through Ames late Wednesday afternoon — just hours before the pyrotechnics were scheduled.  This thunder-boomer brought so much heavy rain, so quickly, that the National Weather Service issued flash-flood warnings. Water poured off our roof in sheets, streets were flooded, and Reiman Gardens — a lovely setting near the stadium where many fireworks-watchers — including us, last year — set up their chairs — sent out word via social media that all the rain had flooded, and damaged — the gardens.

That meant  fireworks-peepers who usually went to the gardens had to improvise.  And that’s just what we did, somehow finding a parking space in a stadium lot and putting our chairs on a sidewalk.  As things turned out, we had as good a view, if not better, than we ever did at Reiman Gardens.

This morning — the Fourth — started, as it always does in Ames on this holiday — with a free pancake-and-sausage breakfast for all comers in front of City Hall. It’s one of those community events that you attend, even if your breakfast normally does not include sausage. Or pancakes.

Clark Avenue was blocked off for all the tables that had been set up. And there, serving the food and orange juice and water, were members of the City Council, along with Mayor John Haila. You just picked a seat next to — or across from — someone you likely had never met and started eating and talking. Conversation with strangers is easy in Ames and in Iowa. Yes, there really is such a thing as “Iowa nice.”

After breakfast, I took off for my morning walk through Old Town. The streets — canopied by stately, ancient oaks and maples and sycamores — were still damp from yesterday’s storm. The lawns in front of the old Victorians and Foursquares and Colonial revivals were lush and green and sparkling with sunshine reflecting off the morning dew. Squirrels and rabbits were scampering around, reveling in their continued good luck of having such a lush landscape in which to forage.

I eventually wound up at lovely Brookside Park, alongside Squaw Creek. The creek was running high — very high — because of the previous day’s rain — and because of all the spring and summer wetness we’ve had. Low spots in the park’s rolling landscape were filled with water. I saw only four people there — but the park was undoubtedly filled with families by the afternoon.  Yes, Brookside is a revered spot for families.

Then Sharon and I were off to a beloved Fourth event here in Ames — the parade along Main Street. This one is a jewel — the personification of what it means to live in a Midwest town. Thousands of folks lined up along both sides of Main Street  — all there to capture images that they hope will stay in their memories — and especially in their childrens’ memories — forever.

And what images they were.  Ames Mayor Haila, walking the parade and passing out candy to kids.  Lots of big equipment such as fire trucks and public works vehicles, courtesy of the city of Ames.  The Ames Municipal Band — at least, some of its members — riding on the back of a flatbed and playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever.”  Plenty of vintage cars.  Members of various church groups, on behalf of their congregations.

And — this being Iowa, and this being the year before the all-important Iowa caucuses — a presidential candidate, marching.  And Bernie Sanders marched with vigor, striding down Main and Douglas and Fifth,  waving to all who called out.  Later, at a campaign rally at his headquarters just down Kellogg Avenue, Bernie gave an impassioned ad-lib speech to a room jam-packed with his ardent supporters.  They ranged from teenagers to old people, and they were united by Bernie’s message and his energy and his style.  He is, indeed, a persuasive speaker.

But there was more on this Fourth, including a delightful late-afternoon block party that friends had kindly invited us to.  Aside from those friends, we knew no one there, but it did not matter because, as previously mentioned, this is Iowa, where “nice” is the name of the game.  About 50 parents and kids attended this potluck affair.  There was plenty of food spread out on long tables, and attendees brought their own lawn chairs that they placed underneath the shade of two giant oak trees.  Kids were playing soccer and croquet and  making chalk drawings on the street — until an Ames fire truck and a paramedics truck parked across the street.  Yes, the city shows up at events like this and lets curious kids and adults look over and touch the equipment.  It’s a nice gesture.

And after that, we took in one more event on this whirlwind Fourth:  a concert in Bandshell Park, just down the street from our place, performed by the full Ames Municipal Band.  This band has history — dating, in one form or another, back to 1877 — but it’s not unique.  Municipal bands around the state are a tradition, and they are cherished.  The Ames band performs Thursday evenings during June and July, and hundreds of people bring their lawn chairs to  enjoy an evening — free of charge — of traditional “big band” fare.

Much to our large crowd’s delight, tonight’s  performance was filled with patriotic music, starting and ending, of course, with Souza.  But in between, there was a delightful mix of well-known tunes from Iowa native  Meredith Willson’s immortal “Music Man” — including, as any such selection must, the quite-rousing “Seventy-Six Trombones.”  (As every Iowan knows, Willson’s “River City” was really his own hometown, Mason City.)  And there was a wonderful selection from legendary big-band great Glenn Miller, including the crowd-pleasing “Mood Indigo,” “In the Mood,” and “Pennsylvania 6-5000.”

All too soon, our concert was over, and so was our big holiday of celebrations in this idyllic Midwest community.  Have I mentioned that there’s nothing quite like celebrating a Fourth in a Midwestern small town?