A Lakeside Fourth of July by Carolyn Landreth When I was a kidlet growing up in St. Paul, Minnesota, I was fortunate to live in a neighborhood with other kids my age. My best buddy was Karen, who is still a close friend, even though we are many miles apart. On the Fourth of July, the neighborhood kids had a parade. This primarily consisted of decorated bicycles with strips of crepe paper woven through the spokes of the wheels in alternating colors of red, white and blue. We made tassels that hung from the handle bars. Sometimes we marched up and down the sidewalks, and I still have the toy drum which I pounded with great precision. Of course, we had flags to wave as patriotism was especially big with World War II on our doorsteps. Our dress also had to be flag-like--a tradition that we still seem to adhere to. This all took place in the early hours of the morning of the Fourth, and then it was time to head out to our cottage on Lake Owasso, which is about 20 minutes from the Midway of St. Paul, where we had our permanent home. The property at the lake was in a pie shape on a long hill with the widest part near the main road, and it included an orchard and a huge garden that was tended by Grandpa, and in later years by Uncle Fritz. The middle section of the property is where the cottage and well were located with large steps leading down to them. There was another hill descending from the cottage to the lake shore. The cottage was built in 1917 by Grandma and Grandpa Thiers who had two teenagers--my mom, Louise, who was 17 and Uncle Fritz, who was 19. My Grandparents wanted the cottage to be accessible to the young folks for lake parties, and so they built it with a large "L" shaped living area for dining and dancing to the piano or phonograph. Large windows marched around that entire area affording a fabulous view of the lake and the woods. There were cots along the window walls which were used for seating and beds for the extended family members. A large, private bedroom was enclosed in the center of the house with a bathroom off to the side. An outhouse was attached to the garage up on the hill--just in case. The large kitchen and pantry was in the back of the house next to the screened-in porch, the one with the screen door that slammed just right. There was a big kerosene stove that held those glass kerosene bottles which had to be filled periodically. This is where we canned and jellied and jammed in the latter part of the summer. Sometime later, there was a kerosene stove installed in the living room for cool evenings, and so that in the winter months we could get warm when we went ice skating. After Mom and Uncle Fritz had their respective families, time at the lake was split-up into two week increments. After Grandpa died, Grandma would stay with us for our two-weeks and then with Aunt Helen and Uncle Fritz for their two weeks. No matter who's turn it was to be living at the lake, there was always a Fourth of July party for the whole family. There were flags placed along the steps from the upper section of the property down to the house. Grandma made beautiful flower arrangements with blue bachelor buttons, white daisies and dark pink (almost red) roses that were all grown in the garden. She also stuck tiny flags in large gum drops that were put at everyone's place at dinner. My mom continued that tradition, and now I do the very same thing. The men-folk mowed the grass over the entire property and then started the fire in the brick chimney-type barbeque down by the lake shore. The women-folk were busy in the kitchen and back porch forming hamburger patties, reaming lemons for the real lemonade, cooking the custard for ice cream, and making German potato salad and deviled eggs. Soon it was time to haul all the goodies in a wheel barrow from the cottage down to the shore house, which was a small screened-in pavilion with a large picnic table inside. There was a picnic table outside the shore house, but if the mosquitoes were bad we would go inside. The lemonade was in a big earthen crock with a spigot. The hamburger-fry was orchestrated by my dad and uncle Fritz. What a glorious smell! The seasoning was just perfect and when those juicy guys were slapped on the buns with thick slices of tomatoes and gobs of lettuce and rings of white onions, our mouths watered uncontrollably. (The burgers I buy at Cook Out remind me of those lake-side burgers.) The ice cream was made in a crank freezer which we all took turns churning. My cousin, Bob, reminded me that sometimes some of the rock salt would get into the ice cream by mistake, but we still managed to enjoy the end results. After stuffing ourselves it was recreation time. Horseshoes for the men and sitting and talking and knitting for the ladies. Grandpa Thiers did a little fishing off the dock. As our family grew and those little cousins became bigger cousins, there was much frolicking on the dock and in the lake. Somewhere around 1967, cousin Jim bought a big 50 horsepower motor boat for $999, and the water skiing began. Most everyone except me had success getting up on the skis. I never managed to get out of the water. I swallowed the lake with each attempt, and I finally gave up feeling that some water should be left in the lake for the fish. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. During World War II, my cousin Fritz was a soldier in the army. One Fourth of July, he was home on furlough and came out to the lake in his uniform. We were all so proud of him, and that year the flag waving was more prolific than usual. And, then there were fireworks! This was back in the days when fireworks were legal in all states. My dad, who was a kid at heart all his life, was a serious lover of fireworks. The louder the better. Cousin Bob was also a fireworks enthusiast and in 1956 he bought ten gross (quick, how many is that?!) of M-80's--sometimes referred to as cherry bombs--for only $18 and they lasted us five years. Dad and Bob put the M-80's under empty tin cans and lit the fuses. We watched the cans zoom many feet into the air. We took bets on how high they would go--to the top of that spruce tree or to the top of that oak tree? Since the fuses were waterproof, the "boys" would light one and throw it in the lake. The explosion was quite spectacular. As I think about it now, the fish could not have been very happy over that situation. Cousin Eileen reminds me that the firecrackers were usually lit by Dad's cigars, and the rest of us used punk sticks to ward off mosquitoes while watching our evening fireworks displays. Despite all the fireworks used we were lucky that no one was maimed or injured in any way. As the day faded, the folks went on back to their homes. If it was our family's turn to stay at the cottage we would bid the other relatives goodbye and get ready for bed. If it was really hot, we would go for an evening dip to get all that salty sweat off our bodies and feel fresh for bed. That brings to mind the bathing suit saga. For years, bathing suits from the teens and twenties were kept in a big box on the closet shelf in the bathroom. It was such fun to rummage through those funny old woolen suits--the women's with skirts and the men's with leggings and tops with holes on the sides. Actually, even I had a woolen bathing suit, a bright yellow number. Oh, how it itched! I wore it as a child in the early 40's. There is nothing quite so unpleasant as putting on a wet, soggy woolen suit. To be honest, it was unpleasant to put on a dry woolen suit. We'd often go swimming two or three times a day. Sometimes, just a lake dip was not enough, and we would take a bar of ivory soap down to the spring-fed lake for a sudsy bath. There were times when it was too cool or rainy to bathe in the lake, and that was when the round galvanized washtub would come out of it's storage place and be set up in the kitchen. Water was heated on the stove, and I had the privilege of bathing first. After I was tucked in bed, my folks took their turns sponging off. Such a cozy feeling, just like the evening swims on the Fourth of July. There was nothing as gratifying as looking back on the day and slipping into our beds with the windows open and that lovely lake breeze wafting through the cottage. Sweet dreams! *Carolyn Landreth is the co-owner and operator of One-Way Antiques in King, North Carolina. mzmouser@attbi.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Time's fun when you're having flies." -Kermit the Frog