Mortars, Cannons, AK's and Sparklers
What's that got to do with running?
I was incredibly lucky to grow up in a small town in Northern Idaho, despite the crushing poverty of my parents and their endless conflict, the town’s residents always put on a great 4th of July parade and festival that swept me away from those troubles. The parade only lasted a few blocks through the downtown area, filled with volunteers, a fire truck, and a plethora of kids on bikes.
Following the parade was a community BBQ in City Park featuring everything Americana. There were grilled hot dogs, burgers, chicken and and endless supply of potato and macaroni salad. Corn on the cob was plentiful and after all that there were cookies and banana pudding.
It was one of the few times during the year I remember eating until I was full. I was well acquainted with hunger so when I was able to fill my stomach, it was an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. There were field games for the kids with 3-legged races and potato sack races. After the parade and lunch feast, many of us kids would walk down to the Public Access beach at the lake or pick up a baseball game at the local sandlot. It was the quintessential Americana 4th of July.
Not much has changed in the 30 years I’ve been gone. The town has grown as has the parade, but the small town Love of America and our independence hasn’t changed. Here’s a great little write up about Spirit Lake, Idaho from the Coeur D’ Alene Press from 2021.
BEST TOWN IN AMERICA: The 4th of July Parade
At 18 I ran.
I ran as far away from that small town as I possibly could. I wanted to escape the perpetual cycle of poverty that had burdened my family and plagued the town. So when SSG Curnutt from the U.S. Army asked if I’d join the U.S. Army, my only response was “Only if I can jump out of airplanes!”.
My request to be Airborne was granted and before I knew it I was shipped off to Basic Training, Advanced Individual Training, Airborne School and then assigned to the 82nd Airborne Division just a few weeks before the 4th of July.
My first 4th of July spent away from home was miserable. I had grown up with a community of patriots who loved to celebrate our independence. Now, I was the Cherry (The FNG - Fucking New Guy) and had no friends and nobody knew who I was. I spent that 4th of July by myself in what seemed to be empty barracks. It was depressing.
I woke up the next morning and went for a run. I kept running.
Thankfully that was the last 4th of July that I spent solo.
For the next four years I spent it in Idaho while on leave or with Bragg Rugby and whatever the popular Rugby 7’s tournament was throughout the Carolina’s. Sometimes it was in Wilmington, NC or in Myrtle Beach, SC. In all cases I had a great time with my friends.
Conflict and war eventually gave me the opportunity to celebrate the 4th of July in Iraq. It was fucking incredible, for one fact alone, I was serving in an Airborne Field Artillery Regiment. To celebrate our independence day we fired off illumination rounds from the 105mm Howitzers and our M203 Grenade Launchers!
The Army provided another opportunity to celebrate the 4th of July at a place I never thought I’d be. The White House in Washington, DC!
Back in my small town of Spirit Lake, I don’t recall anyone ever talking about Washington D.C. In fact, I remember listening a Veteran who was giving us a speech one time and he described meeting the President of the United States of America! This man held an honorable position in the community. A combat Veteran of World War II who had traveled the world and met the President. I remember thinking how incredible those things must have been.
Fast forward almost 15 years and I had been tasked with being the Leader to ensure the contingent of Paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division made it to the South Lawn of the White House to celebrate the 4th of July. It had been arranged for the Paratrooper of the Year, NCO of the Year and Jumpmaster of the Year to meet the President in the Rose Garden.
I was going to meet the President.
Now, the Commander in Chief at the time was Barack Obama, and I was never a fan, but I did highly respect the Office of the Presidency and the position of Commander in Chief. I put my political opinions aside and took in the awesome opportunity to simply be at the White House.
My experience at The White House was incredible. The FOO Fighters were walking around and I got to meet them in person along with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Sergeant Major of the Army and the Chief of Staff of the Army along with many high ranking dignitaries and politicians in the crowd.
I spent my day eating fried chicken, hot dogs, burgers and drinking Sam Adams on The South Lawn of the White House.
Later in the day I was honored to meet President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama. Honestly, he had a weak handshake, but I didn’t hold that against him. I really felt honored to meet the President.
Like that Veteran from my childhood, I was now living proof that a poor kid who grew up on a dirt road in a run down single-wide trailer could provide honorable service to the United States and shake the Presidents hand. It was a surreal moment, one I hope to never forget.
Fast forward another five years and I found myself supporting Navy Seals in Afghanistan on the 4th of July. The frogmen decided to celebrate with a few illumination rounds from the 120mm Mortars and plenty of AK-47 fire. It was yet another life experience that I will never happen again.
Over the years I’ve celebrated the 4th of July during multiple overseas assignments and duties. I’ve found myself in Maggie Valley watching the incredible fireworks in the Blue Ridge Mountains and seeing the Fireworks over the Washington Monument. In my youth they were spent watching families come together to set of a myriad of fireworks on the Baseball Field. I’ve been blessed to spend many nights at friends houses with a BBQ and fireworks in the street.
In recent years we’ve spent the 4th of July with friends in their pool and a massive celebration in their neighborhood. It was sight to be seen the amount of planning and money spent on celebrating our Nations Independence. We discovered a great local Fireworks display at the next town over and have spent the last few years enjoying it.
This year I started the day like I have in the last 5 years or so, a run with my local Run Club. This year the theme was “4 on the 4th” with a 4-mile run down the greenway followed by an on-site social breakfast, potluck style.
I woke up around 5:30am and was questioning if what I was doing was normal or if I had scheduled the start of this event too early at 7:00am. I wasn’t sure how many people were going to show up as it was a Thursday morning. Who the hell wakes up on a day off so early to go run in the heat and humidity? Surely this can’t be normal and surely the group won’t be so big.
To my surprise we had 50+ people ready to go at 7:00am for a very informal social run of four miles, of which the last one was all uphill. Yeah, I planned the route, but the way I see it, if people are going to get up early on a National Holiday, might as well make it worth it. People can do easy things on their own, so I planned something hard.
After the run we all enjoyed a post-run onsite social breakfast where everyone brought something to share. The food and laughter were in abundance following a tough uphill battle on the last mile.
In all the places I’ve been to celebrate our Independence Day, nothing compares to starting the Holiday with Friends and Family. Especially those friends who are crazy enough to wake up early on a Holiday and over the weekend to get in a few miles.
