Stories about the Fourth of July

Sharing Stories

July 4, 2022 at 8:45 p.m.

Painting by Pat Sweazey

...by Pat Sweazey

Stories about the 4^th of July

My father, Everett Pierpont Davis, loved the 4^th of July. (His birthday was on the third.) As a boy in the tiny Eastern Washington city of Pomeroy, he was proud to be one of the “boys with a bucket” who ran about putting out little fires started by the annual display. Though he moved to Seattle where he met my mother and co-owned a fancy cabinet work business in the University District, he had fond memories of the Palouse area.

As soon as Seattle began having fireworks shows at Green Lake, my father made sure we all went with him to sit in the highest bleacher seats, a family tradition that lasted to include all his grandchildren.

My mother, Pearl, also patiently followed his picnic menu for the day, including deviled eggs, penuche (his favorite old-fashioned candy), and watermelon with a saltshaker as that was the way he loved to eat it.

My in-laws also…always threw a 4^th of July party. Fortunately, theirs was earlier in the day. Unfortunately, they lived outside of Seattle in Maple Valley, so between the two events, we had a long but festive day.

The Sweazey parties included up to a hundred—relatives, distant relatives, and friends who tagged along for the great feed. Lots of different foods showed up at these potlucks. John and I invented our Everything but the Kitchen Sink Coleslaw that became popular as it contained chocolate chips; a couple of kinds of apples; some different dried fruit each year—dates, raisins, or apricots; nuts—slithers of almonds, pecans, or walnuts; or sometimes pumpkin or sunflower seeds; often slices of pineapple, jicama, cucumber, green onions, and/or celery, and as small a percent of cabbage and carrots as possible. (Coconut and marshmallows were not popular.)

Rarely, we stayed at home for the 4^th, usually because one or all of us had gotten sunburned or caught a cold.

Our house was built almost entirely by our family including our daughters, Wendy and Gay Anne, as well as help from my father. Between John (also a professional carpenter) and my dad, we had a wonderful view from our roof. I made a watercolor painting of my girls watching fireworks one year.

Left to ourselves for the 4^th of July, we barbequed hotdogs or hamburgers to go with potato chips and cokes.

Pat Sweazey was a Seattle teacher and professional artist whose art and writing have appeared in several publications.

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