THE OLD DRIVER chuckled. “We used to have some bang-up celebrations on the Fourth of July. The summer of ’97 or ’98 the folks living in Yosemite Valley passed the hat and brought in a whole big box full of fireworks— every kind you can think of. The kids were pretty excited by the night of the 4th when everyone gathered over near the meadow near where the little old chapel stands now, to watch the big show.

“The fireworks were all in one big box and Jack Leidig and some others tore the lid off and got ready to start things goin’. They called Frank Lancey over to give them a hand, and that’s just what he did. Pickin’ up a Roman candle he lit it with his cigar, and then the fun began! The first burst from the Roman candle didn’t shoot into the air as it should have done, but dropped smack into the box where the other stuff was. Whambo! Fire started shootin’ in every direction and folks was runnin’ like scared cats. Then from behind every rock and tree heads started pokin’ out to watch the skyrockets go skittering across the meadow, while salutes, cartwheels, firecrackers and colored fire went in every direction! Reckon there never was such a show! Luckily the skyrockets roared alongside rather than into the crowd, or someone might have been hurt. Someone heard one of the kids remark that he never had known the 4th to come and go so fast!”

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