A big bang at a small-town Fourth - Fourth of July

Sunset, July, 1994 by Bill Crosby, David Lansing, Steven C. Levi, Steven R. Lorton

From Alaska to Southern California, Westerners know how to celebrate the nation's birthday

Nothing says America like the Fourth of July, a day of picnics and parades, footraces and fireworks. And usually, when it comes to things like parades and fireworks, more and bigger are better. But this year, declare your independence from the traffic and crowds at the local mega-display by attending a good old-fashioned small-town Fourth. Your local paper will probably be filled with parade times and fireworks sites in dozens of little towns in your area. You may be surprised at how much fun you'll have. Here are five of our favorites.

SEWARD, ALASKA

In Alaska, some of the most popular events have the strangest roots. Take the Fourth of July celebration in Seward. It started back in the summer of 1915 following an argument between two sourdoughs over how long it would take a man to run to the top of a nearby mountain and back to town. One of the men suggested he could make the trip in an hour. The other scoffed at the idea, and put his money where his mouth was. Local businessmen--sensing a bit of free publicity--offered the winner a suit of clothes if he could beat the clock. Thus, on the Fourth of July, a lone sourdough made his way to the 3,022-foot summit and back. But he was a little slow: his time was 1 hour and 2 minutes. Though he didn't win the suit, he did begin a tradition that continues to this day.

Today for hundreds of runners around the world, the Fourth of July in Seward means the Mount Marathon Race. The goal now is to make it to the top of the mountain and back, regardless of weather conditions, in less than 45 minutes. The men's record is 43 minutes, 23 seconds, set in 1981. (There are also women's and junior divisions, as well as a Mini Mount Marathon for children between the ages of 2 and 6.)

Which is not to say that the Fourth of July in Seward is only for runners and mountain climbers. The Fourth also offers such events as a nail-driving contest, a water balloon toss, and the (raw) egg-and-spoon race.

One of the most unusual events of the day is for children only. Nickels, dimes, and quarters, as well as plenty of candy, are buried in a mountain of sawdust. When a whistle blows, the children scramble to dig for treasure. A greased pole contest attracts a slightly older set. In this competition, youngsters test their skill and strength against the combined forces of gravity and grease. The prize? A hundred-dollar bill nailed to the top of the slippery 10-foot pole. Everyone who wants a chance gets it, and if you can pull the bill off the top of the pole, it's yours.

Seward's parade doesn't exactly string for miles, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in enthusiasm. When the Grand Marshall calls for divisions to march, the parade moves down Fourth Avenue, all eight blocks of it. An evening boat parade is held just before the sun sets so that participants onshore and afloat can find a good place to view the fireworks over Resurrection Bay.

Whether you are a resident of Alaska or a visitor, getting to Seward is not difficult. From Anchorage, you can either fly the 125 miles or drive the Seward Highway (allow about 3 hours). Either way, be sure to let them know you're coming. Even though Seward has some 30 hotels and bed-and-breakfast inns--not to mention a campground and a few RV parks--you should phone ahead for reservations. The Seward Chamber of Commerce (907/224-8051) has an active list of lodging options. And take along a good pair of sunglasses, because the Alaskan summer days are l-o-n-g.

SEDRO WOOLLEY, WASHINGTON

Sedro Woolley uses the Fourth of July (and the dry weather that everyone hopes will come with it) as an excuse to stage a week-long town festival. The week begins with the crowning of a queen on the night of June 24 in the town community center. On the 30th, a carnival, complete with midway-type rides, opens in the center of town. And the rest of the week features such events as a street dance, a kiddie parade, a bluegrass festival, a footrace, a rodeo, basketball and soccer tournaments, and a community picnic.

But for the out-of-towner (Sedro Woolley is only about 1 1/2 hours by car north of Seattle), the real fun is, of course, on July 4th, the day of the Logger Rodeo Grand Parade. Visitors from all over the Northwest flock to this parade, which begins at 11 A.M. By 9:30, parking strips along the parade route are lined with early birds who've staked out spots with aluminum lawn chairs because, as one retired spectator put it, "I haven't seen a parade like this since the '40s."

Beginning at Third Street, the parade rolls down Metcalf Street, turns east on Ferry Street, and lumbers to an end--all in 10 blocks. Along the way, marching bands blast out halftime favorites, hundreds of batons twirl in the air, and local dignitaries wave from gliding floats. Shiny earth-moving machines and logging trucks rumble, snort, and bellow as their drivers smile and wave to the crowd. Scout groups, drum-and-bugle corps, church groups, and lodges march in uniform. Local country-and-western bands belt out ballads from the backs of pickup trucks. And flatbed wagons padded with bales of straw and pulled by tractors or vintage cars bear banners saying things such as The Class of '64. The wagons carry cheerleaders, quarterbacks, class officers, clowns, and geeks, all assembled to show the old school spirit--and reveal just what 30 years or so can do to change us.