Friday, July 4, 2008

1969, July Fourth

I held my breath as I watched my husband negotiating with the machine gun totting rebel soldiers surrounding our car. This Fourth of July was going to be very different I thought. A rebel force had declared martial law in this small Caribbean nation where we were living and working. We had made the decision to take our family out of the country until things settled. On the escape route we had been stopped at a roadblock to have our car searched.

In a split second my mind flipped home where my mother would be preparing custard ice cream to be turned and frozen over the course of a bee humming afternoon. My father would be preparing a fire for barbecuing and marshmallow roasting come evening. My great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, cousins, uncles, dogs, cats and friends would be gathering for a day of celebrating. Chickens would scatter to the barn as cars loaded with pies and people would park in the shade of the sheltering oaks that had seen my family celebrate American’s Independence on the same grassy lawn for five generations.

With an ache in my heart I jerked back to the situation in front of me.

Jesse

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"bee humming afternoon" absolutely great description.