A Very Happy Redneck Third of July...

This is an all time favorite story that was originally posted July 3, 2005.

Background

For the long Fourth of July weekend this year, we decided to visit my mom in the green state of Washington . My mom and step dad live in Westport , WA , a small fishing village southwest of Seattle . They have a cute place in the middle of “downtown” Westport right across the street from the harbor and Float 3. If you enjoy seafood, you can walk across to Float 3 and buy fresh crab, tuna, prawns, or salmon. My nephew and two of his friends, all 15, joined us at my mom’s house.

Prior to arriving at my mom’s house, my nephew’s dad took them to the local Indian casino to purchase fireworks. The local Indian casino is in a town called Tokeland and it is approximately 20 miles from Westport . I should note, everything is legal on the Indian reservation, and they carry everything—bottle rockets, M-80s, etc. The boys had bags of fireworks and at least 50 books of matches stored in their bedrooms.

When purchasing their fireworks, the boys learned there was a fireworks show on the third of July. The boys really wanted to go to the show and they wanted to make sure we left earlier enough for them to light off some of their fireworks. I think the boys were interested in seeing the pyrotechnic display, which was designed by a professional this year, not by one of the chiefs, but I think the real goal for the boys was to add to their own collection of fireworks.

The Main Event

The seven of us crammed into the minivan—the three boys, mom, Jim, Marc, and me—Marc was driving, and we made our way towards Tokeland. Approximately 12 miles into the ride we pulled over to let the boys let off some of their fireworks. There were groups of people on the beach, some around bond fires, all lighting their share of fireworks. Some even thought the fire was a perfect place to light the fireworks—I am not kidding—they were mostly firecrackers, but one group put one of the spinny things that shoots into the air in their fire. The boys only brought one bag each—they called this their warm-up for the 4th—now I think it was a warm-up for what was to come.

After the boys messed around on the beach, throwing firecrackers in water, skipping the flare things across the water, and throwing firecrackers at each other, we all piled back into the minivan. At this point I was very thankful nobody got hurt.

The next part of the story is told best by Marc, but I will do my best to paint a vivid picture of the scene.

Marc is gliding the minivan down the road towards Tokeland. It is about 10pm and it is finally starting to get dark, dark enough for the main event. We come around a curve in the road and immediately see a blue and light flashing light, smoke is everywhere, and there are people on both sides of the street. Marc immediately suspects there is an accident up ahead, and proceeds with caution. We get up closer to the red and blue flashing lights and realize the lights aren’t even on an emergency vehicle. Instead the lights are strategically placed on top of a hut type structure selling fireworks.

We pass the hut structure and continue towards the casino. The dark streets are lined with people on both sides, firecrackers are exploding in front of the minivan, and people, with their kids, are dodging in front of the minivan to cross the street. A lot of the people have a cold one in their hand. I think if it wasn’t for the boys and their desire to see the fireworks show, we would have found the first place to turn around and got the heck out of there.

We make our way to the casino without getting hit by a firecracker or hitting a pedestrian, we pass the casino, find a place to turn around, and actually find parking. We are maybe an eighth of a mile from the casino.

After we parked and were attempting to get out of the van, a jeep headed in the opposite direction drove by with a group of rowdy guys. The jeep didn’t have a top, so they all jumped out. I am in the back of the minivan and get out just as one of the guys is walking by. He has a cold one in his hand and is saying, “fuck yeah I am going to walk down the street and drink my beer. I wouldn’t leave it in the jeep.” That sets the tone of what is yet to come.

We get everyone together and start walking towards the casino. The casino is now on our right side. There is smoke everywhere, bottle rockets going off overhead, M-80s in the very near distance, the spinny things in the middle of the road, kids crying and peeing their pants, and dogs barking. A firework show is a great place to bring your pitbull. I think I can say this is true chaos.

Marc has the best description for the chaos. Think about the bridge scene from “Apocalypse Now.” Martin Sheen gets off of the boat and turns to one of the soldiers, “hey, who is in charge here?” The soldier turns to Martin and says, “I thought you were sir.” No one was in charge, and that was apparent at the Tokeland Casino on the 3^rd of July.

We left the boys at the fireworks stand and told them we would be back for them in a few minutes; we were going into the casino to use the restroom. The walk from the stand to the casino was maybe 50 meters, but that 50 meters was full of excitement. People were sitting in the back of their trucks, drinking Budweiser, fathers were teaching their 3-5 year olds how to light fireworks, a man walking by with a young girl on his shoulder looks around the parking lot and says, “This is just like Viet-Nam.” Fireworks are exploding everywhere and you have to worry about the stand at the end of the parking lot catching on fire.

We get to the Casino and the police squad for the whole town is out front, there were three cars, and these officers weren’t moving. Marc thought it would be a better idea to go back and keep an eye on the boys instead of going into the casino. He headed back to the stand and stood there waiting for the boys to wheel and deal. It was at this point Marc saw something he says helped define the evening and the clientele frequenting the show. A younger couple was walking towards him. The guy had one arm around his woman and a beer in the other hand. He was wearing a t-shirt, obviously homemade, that said, in black block letters, “I have the DICK, so I make the rules.” Marc couldn’t wait to tell me about the shirt.

The main event started, the launch pad was placed right in front of the casino. I am sure this was the safest place. It was so loud, louder than before. I go back to the stand to check on the boys and Marc. The boys finally felt they purchased enough fireworks and wanted to put their purchases in the minivan. The five of us walked back to the van and Kyle, my nephew, turned to Marc and asked if it was okay to light off a firework or two. Marc, in a serious tone at first, fading into a little laugh, said, “No, Man, it isn’t okay.” Kyle laughed too and threw a firecracker into the bushes.

We walked back to the meeting place and Marc suggested I go find my mom and step dad. I find my mom and send her to the meeting place and go back to find Jim. After searching for approximately 10 minutes, I find him standing very close to the launching pad and right underneath the fireworks. I grab him and bring him back to the meeting spot. The show was still going on and we were still a few minutes away from the grand finale, but we convinced everyone to pile into the minivan and head home. We didn’t want to be on the road after the show with all of the drunken rednecks.

If you ever want to celebrate a very happy redneck 3^rd of July, you know where to go— Tokeland , WA . Or if you ever forget who makes the rules, check to see if you have a dick.

God Bless America !