The crowd was patient, but constantly on the move–maybe just killing time. The children were asleep, draped across their parent’s lap or in strollers cranky or asleep. The rain drizzled but never poured, thankfully. The heat of the day abated by the incoming storms. Cell phones monitored the political goings-on, so we might have a better indication of when things would start. Distant fireworks could be seen underway all around. 10pm came and went. 11pm came and went. Some people came and went. I was ready to leave at 11:30pm, unwilling to wait any longer.

The crowd was moving in all directions, but mostly watching the weather to determine when they should leave the safety of cover or brave the heat to find a spot to view the fireworks. Many arrived late in the evening, 9pm or later. I didn’t try to reach my typical iconic spot in front of the Netherland Carillon, unsure of the how bad the rain or lightning might be, and greatly unsure of how long we’d wait for the start. The position may also represent a protest to the schedule of events. We ended up to the side of the Route 50 overpass, so we could make a quick getaway if the storms intensified or we just wanted to leave. I thought the movement of cars on the roadway against fireworks in the background might be visually interesting, in lieu of seeing the monuments in the background. It wasn’t really. As we stood there we watched as group after group of people took up positions along the roadway or crossing to look for other vantage points. The cars moved cautiously, spooked by all the people on or near the roadway. Police seemed unable or unwilling to stop viewers from gathering on the highway. The south bound traffic continued to flow.

It was nearly July 5th. At 12:50 am-ish the fireworks started promptly following the end of the political show. We first heard a flush of sound from the crowd at the Iwo Jima, so we knew something was happening. What many at first thought was a drone flying over slowly came into focus as a jet with its’ afterburners aglow. Admittedly, that was cool. As soon as it was out of sight the night sky blew up fully–the show much more encompassing than normal. It went on and on and on. People continued to cross and walk along Rt. 50.

The finale was so bright and overblown that night turned to day, and the fireworks were unseen within the smoke and light of the explosions.

I’ve lived in the Washington, DC Area nearly all my life, including the 1976 Bicentennial celebration, which was huge. I recall once in the 70’s it took us hours to get home to McLean. I’ve attended a lot of fireworks. The wait for these fireworks was unnecessary and self-serving. Perhaps the storms delayed the start anyway, but the performances and speech could have gone ahead to minimize the wait–if only the people came first. A moment that could have felt very unifying, didn’t. It was just a big fireworks show.