As soon as the sun peeked around the hotel curtains, the kids were up and ready to jump into their patriotic gear for our 4th of July celebration in Ely, Minnesota. After two days of swimming, eating, boat rides, and mosquito bites up at my grandparent’s cabin, we were ready for some downtown fun. We started the morning with a stroll through the tourist shops, finding souvenirs for the kids – drum for Parker, bead necklace for Fiona, and sticker activity pages for Madi.
Then it was back to the house for a lunch of ham, coleslaw, and plenty of dessert before we headed back downtown for the parade. I love small town parades. And I love it even more when you have an uncle who sets up a dozen chairs in front of the Zup’s parking lot at six in the morning, with a cooler full of beverages at the ready.
My grandma hid from the hot sun under a flowered umbrella while the rest of us put on sunglasses and hats and waited for the parade to reach the top of the hill where we were sitting. The kids sat (mostly squirmed) with their empty grocery bags fluttering in the breeze, asking every ten seconds when the parade was going to start. Parker perched on the curb with Kristin, anxiously waiting for the handfuls of candy to come his way.
When it finally came…the wait was worth it. Tootsie rolls and Jolly Ranchers rained down on the kids from the tops of lumber trucks, restored cars, and ambulances. The Zup’s folks drove by and tossed out boxes of melty candy bars, piles of marinade packets, and Febreze plug-ins. Plastic cereal containers followed, and Madi grabbed armfuls of Cocoa Puffs and Marshmallow Treats.
The floats ranged from the typical local beauty queens and wanna-be politicians to the slightly unusual lawn chair brigade, Crapola truck and even an Elvis impersonator. But as the clown marching band brought up the rear, dark clouds followed them, sending us scurrying off to our cars to beat the raindrops that fell hard, moments after we climbed in.
Our post-parade ice cream run fouled, we waited for the rain to let up before we drove the 17 miles out to my uncle’s house out by the lake for dinner. The rain was falling, but not pelting down…the wind was blowing, but not hard. But what happened next would turn our 4th of July celebration into something a bit more…memorable.
We walked into my uncle’s house just in time for the lights to click out. We all looked at each other, and then went to look out the back windows of the house. The storm had gathered up strength, bending trees over in an alarming fashion and whipping the water away from shore. It was eerie to be in the middle of the storm, strong enough to knock out power, upend trees, and pelt the windows with driving rain, while thinking about my two uncles who were still on the road to the house.
They finally walked up to the house through the woods, umbrellas aloft, to give us the news. Trees were down all along the back roads leading to the house, including two trees that took out power lines and a transformer, blocking the road. They were able to park on the far side of the blocked road and walk through the woods to the house, but we were effectively stuck, with no power, no toilet flushing, and our cars stuck in the driveway.
We made the best of it, eating giant grilled wild rice bratwurst by the light of lanterns and flameless candles. The kids colored by the light of the windows and played pick-up sticks on the rug. The adults talked and told stories and waited for a break in the rain to figure out how to get everyone home. Only later did we walk out to the road to survey the damage. It was sobering, wires draped across the road and the fallen tree trunks, the transformer hanging crookedly from the cracked pole.
And after we hauled everything and everyone through the woods to start the trek back to town jammed into my Dad’s Sonata, I couldn’t help but whisper prayers of thanksgiving into Fiona’s hair.
If we had left town five minutes later, if we had stopped for ice cream, if we had been on the road when the trees were falling, if my uncles had already been back at the house and none of us would have been able to leave for the night…the ifs rang in my ears with a deafening roar. It was a true close call, and I remembered the words of Psalm 124:
“If the Lord had not been on our side…the flood would have engulfed us, the torrent would have swept over us, the raging waters would have swept us away…Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
It was a 4th of July to remember…sunshine, Tootsie rolls, uprooted trees, a display of nature’s fierceness, and a renewed gratitude…
