The Ghosts of Fourths of July Past, Part 1: Pittsburgh, 1987

I was about ten years old the first time that I celebrated the Fourth of July in Pittsburgh. Back then, my late maternal grandfather was still a city motorcycle patrolman. My sister Katie and I were staying with my grandparents that week, and I remember my grandfather dressed in his police uniform, returning in the late afternoon to the house in Carrick where my grandparents had raised six children.

Although my mother was raised in Pittsburgh, she left the city when she married my father and she has lived in small towns ever since. Katie and I grew up in agrarian Somerset County and even more rural Perry County. Therefore, it was a big deal to us when our Aunt Jeanne took us on the T and on the Good Ship Lollipop to Three Rivers Stadium on that Independence Day. We had tickets to see the Pittsburgh Pirates play a double-header, but we got bored and left before the second game.

That evening my grandparents took me and Katie downtown to see the fireworks. I don’t remember much about the show. However, I remember that my grandfather knew all of the very best places to park to see the show. Looking back, my memories of my grandfather are not perfect.He encountered his share of frustrations and obstacles in his job as a patrolman. However, I can’t fault him for not knowing his city well. He knew his city like I know my own house. I work in downtown Pittsburgh now, and many of the streets that I travel now are streets that my grandfather used to patrol.

I initially thought that maybe I would blog this weekend about the Battle of Gettysburg since July 1, 2, and 3 marked the battle’s 146th Anniversary. Then I thought that I would blog about George Washington (and his roles in the founding of Pittsburgh) because I am going to the Point tomorrow for Independence Day and he was at the Point at the very moment that it was named after William Pitt. These are both worthy topics, but I think that I shall save them for another time. To make this fit even more with the Independence Day theme, I will add that both of my late grandfathers were veterans. My maternal grandfather was a Marine before he joined the City of Pittsburgh’s police force, and my paternal grandfather served in the Army during WWII.

My maternal grandfather died last June, after a lengthy illness, four days after my sister Anne’s wedding. The next day, I went to work at my job in downtown Pittsburgh, as usual. After all, my husband was out of the country that week (and couldn’t return home early) and I didn’t see the point of sitting staying home alone all day in my empty house. At lunchtime that day, I went outside to walk around. I started daydreaming, and when I stepped into a crosswalk, I almost walked directly into the path of a man who was pulling a knife on a policeman. I heard the word, “Freeze!” and I froze myself before I jumped out of the way.

This was the first time that I had nearly walked into the middle of a law enforcement encounter. At the time, I wondered if it was an omen. But an omen of what? Thinking about the incident now, I think that I now know: I have come to downtown Pittsburgh to work nearly every weekday for the past five years, and I am not always at on guard when I walk around downtown. I owe my safety to the law enforcement who come downtown and do their jobs everyday, just like my grandfather did.

Whoah, that was a heavy topic! In a few hours, I will present a more light-hearted post on fireworks in State College.