Your fireworks are destroying my family

Cornell Will

By Cornell Will, North News Intern 

As a kid, I grew up playing with sparklers and poppers on the Fourth of July. My grandpa, when he was on his feet, was the best chef on the grill. 

Gramps never had any problems with the sparklers and poppers. He loved the way they lit up the night, soft and colorful, and illuminated the faces of his grandchildren. 

That was like 10 years ago. Nowadays, I don’t participate in the Fourth of July, and neither does my grandfather. 

At the age of 75, he was diagnosed with dementia and is currently bedridden. Recent memories of the sparklers have faded. 

As the night waned on that July 4 seven years ago, and the larger, colorful fireworks that evoke "oohs" and "aahs" lit up the sky, Gramps heard a metal symphony of chaos, of catastrophic combustions that polluted the atmosphere, and was struck with a memory that evoked terror. 

As his dementia worsened, July 4 fireworks started to remind him of the worst time of his life – the Vietnam War. 

This year, like most years, I sat with him by his bedside, and we listened as the fireworks attempted to break the sound barrier. 

“It’s like World War fawk’in three,” he told me. 

My grandfather has had three heart attacks that were related to his PTSD. He’s 82 and I worry about him. When there are fireworks, he can’t sleep. If he does fall asleep, he has nightmares. 

So I started thinking of ways to help him. I found an article about how service dogs can help veterans overcome PTSD nightmares. 

Service dogs are scent-trained and can detect seizures and heart attacks before they occur. This allows people like my grandpa to reach a safe place or take preventive measures. 

My dad and I adopted a rescue puppy named Indy four years ago from an organization called Saving Shepherds of Minnesota. She’s a 120-pound Belgian Malinois, large but shy. 

Indy’s not a service dog, but she does a service on most nights. She is the one who brings the household together. Indy is typically a mellow, happy dog, with a wagging tail that hits me while we lie on the couch and watch TV. She’s more of a family member than a pet. On the Fourth, I assumed Indy would be a good buddy for grandpa because she wouldn’t leave his side, and would act as a companion to him. 

I was wrong. She crowded me and my dad's legs, as if we were the guardians of her galaxy. Her ears pointed downward, and I felt helpless as she looked at me, tail between her legs. That night, I didn't see the dog who sleeps unconfined in the warmth of my house. That night, she hid and fell asleep in the basement until the fireworks had stopped. 

Like my grandpa, Indy has PTSD, and on this holiday, I’m stressed caring for the two. 

While people celebrate this country's independence, my grandpa is reminded of the worst memories of his life. It causes real harm, and it’s not just my family that’s impacted. 

It's unethical to purchase illegal fireworks, and I’m not talking about the sparklers or poppers. I’m talking about the M80s, cherry bombs, Dragon’s Breath – the “big” ones that you cross the Wisconsin border for. 

The City of Minneapolis even has an official website dedicated to reporting “mega booms” and illegal fireworks in your neighborhood. 

There is a reasonable way to celebrate the Fourth of July. Don’t set off bombs. 

So next year, think twice before you drive to Wisconsin and purchase your colorful artillery.