I heart Liberty Days

You know you live in a small town when they announce the winner of the Fourth of July greased pig chase over the pulpit in Sacrament Meeting. Until a few years ago, I never really cared for the Fourth of July holiday. It was always hot, crowded, sticky, loud and somewhat lonely. I couldn't understand how a day that ended in fireworks could still feel so anticlimactic. And then I moved to a little town called Liberty, and now just can't seem to get enough of the day.

This year Liberty Days began at 7 a.m. with The Star-Spangled Banner, all verses, being sung by a young, clear voice projected to the far corners of the community park and rodeo grounds over the newly installed sound system. The object of the stirring ballad, the American flag, was then raised by the local scout troop to watch over the day. Kids of all ages, most with bedhead and ruddy cheeks just waiting to be fake tattooed with patriotic combinations of red white and blue, waited in the early morning line for a robust chuck wagon breakfast. Volunteers flipped flap-jacks, slung hashbrowns, sliced melons, and sold tickets for events such as the quilt raffle, cow plop and stick horse derby.

The block long parade showcased equal numbers of tractors and tricycles, while the greased pole lured holiday monkeys up a 25 foot slippery vertical climb, with it's promise of a hundred dollar bill tethered to the top. We cheered on the sack racers, hula hoopers, arm wrestlers, mutton busters, and hot dog, watermelon and pie eaters; and when it got hot, we cooled off with snow-cones courtesy of the Young Men from church, and got "flushed" courtesy of a toilet bowl perched on top of an unusual dunking booth.

The fireworks were stellar as usual, even if (as a result of losing the chabin) we were, as my sister Alison expressed, "just grass sitters," like everyone else. The day ended with taking down the flags surrounding my empty corner, which served as a parking lot for holiday revelers, and packing our own patriots up to "Uncle Jed's old house with the pool"–the condo at Wolf Creek, where we played more games until late into the night, as if we did not want the day to end.

I heart Liberty Days.