Living Las Vegas

Real Life in the Shadow of the Strip

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Neighborhood Pyrotechnics

By long-standing tradition, the first few days of July usually find me in bachelor mode. While my wife often attends a national convention over the Fourth of July weekend, ever since I moved to Las Vegas about eight years ago, I’ve made a point of staying home. I’ve got nothing against patriotic observances in other communities across the USA. In fact, my work for RoadTripAmerica.com has taken me to many cities and towns on Independence Day, and I’ve always had a blast soaking up the local culture. But there is something a little different about a Vegas Fourth of July.

As a rule, the residents here tend to be a very conservative bunch: politically right-of-center and generally law-abiding. When it comes to fireworks, however, an outlaw streak emerges. A patriotic pyro tradition is observable in residential neighborhoods all over the valley, as driveways and cul-de-sacs become launching pads for amazing displays of illegal but impressive fireworks.

I got my first hint of neighborhood pyrotechnics back in 2000, when I noticed flurries of flaming debris drifting into my backyard from homes a block west of my house. Perhaps it was my southern California background — even hand-held sparklers are illegal in Los Angeles County — but I had never seen an ordinary citizen shooting off fireworks that resulted in blazing starbursts 300 feet in the air. And I had certainly never encountered flaming flotsam originating from a neighbor’s backyard.

It turns out that these particular fireworks were being shot from “fireworks cannons” 4 and 6 inches in diameter. The neighbor in question had even wired some of the detonations in sequence and set them to go off electronically, much like the set pieces you see at ballgames and municipal fireworks extravaganzas. It was — to put it mildly – exhilarating to be that close to home-grown flaming mayhem.

One year not long ago, the visibility in our neighborhood was down to a few feet shortly after dark, and a neighbor across the street called the fire department to report smoke in his yard. When the fire department arrived, everyone agreed that there was plenty of smoke — but no fire.

About four years ago, the neighbor to the west of me, the one with the penchant (and the money) for huge fireworks displays, moved away. Having been seduced by the over-the-top illegal celebrations of the prior years, I was worried that our neighborhood might slip into compliance with the law, and that I might be facing a boring, “safe and sane” Fourth of July.

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. My neighborhood – and it’s hardly unique – enjoys a nice local reputation for being one of the best places to see home-launched displays of fireworks, and they are often more impressive than those at local casinos and city parks. For one thing, most of the “official” fireworks displays last between seven and 20 minutes. While those shows are undeniably awesome, consider that from my front porch, I can watch large-scale fireworks being fired into the night sky for nearly three hours straight. Nowhere else have I ever seen amateur pyrotechnics like this. If it’s sometimes scary, it’s also exciting, beautiful and entertaining.

Because of the prevailing breezes, the location of the nearest launching sites, and probably the improved design of the newer rockets and shells, I haven’t seen flaming debris rain down in my yard in a couple of years. On the other hand, this year at least three shells that were intended to explode at 200 feet or higher exploded in their full glory at about three feet above the ground. Thigh-high fireballs tend to motivate people to move rather quickly. Remarkably, I’ve never seen any injuries occur at these neighborhood launching parties. In fact, I can remember more burns when using “safe and sane” fireworks as a kid. Go figure!

There must be some sort of tacit understanding between the homeowners who host these Fourth of July fireworks parties and the Clark County fire and police departments. In fact, while I haven’t checked into it, I suspect that some of the participants are off-duty fire and police personnel. Except for that one time when the nervous homeowner called the fire department, I have never seen any sort of police or fire department presence in our neighborhoods during these events – at least nothing overt.

Since it’s impossible to purchase large fireworks locally except at Native American fireworks stores on reservation lands, I’m guessing that’s where these devices come from. While it isn’t illegal to purchase fireworks at these stores, it is against the law to possess and detonate them in Clark County. Having checked out the prices in these stores, I estimate that at least $100,000 of illegal fireworks made their way skyward in my neighborhood this year alone.

By the morning of July 5, all evidence of the launching parties had been cleaned up. This year, the street was even swept clean, and all participants were back to being the law-abiding, conservative, responsible pillars of the community they are for 364 days of the year. It’s just one more way Las Vegas is a little bit different from other places, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. One thing I do know: I’ll have my folding chair ready on my front porch next year. This is one Vegas show I never want to miss.