A letter from Coral

By CORAL A. RIPPLE
Posted 8/19/20

Fireworks! The bane of my existence, whatever that means. Decorated eggs are for Easter! Decorated cards are for Valentine’s Day! Fireworks are for July 4th, set off by professionals in a safe …

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A letter from Coral

Posted

Fireworks! The bane of my existence, whatever that means. Decorated eggs are for Easter! Decorated cards are for Valentine’s Day! Fireworks are for July 4th, set off by professionals in a safe setting. A small display of reasonable duration is acceptable, but not of four hours duration, including rockets in a neighborhood setting.

Fireworks are dangerous to life and limb, the environment, people and pets—and they are very expensive, I am told.

People are killed by them, one in a nearby county this past July 4th. Imagine if you spent some time in a war zone and come home with PTSD and there is one person in this area with it. They can wake up in the night in terror without the incentive of fireworks. You folks who love the booming sounds of fireworks could enlist in the military and ask to be sent to Afghanistan. You can hear all the booms you want and even go out with a bang if one lands on you.

Fireworks burned five-and-a-half square miles near Reno: 400 people were evacuated, eight structures destroyed. One event!

Most of the folks where I live are weekenders and vacationers and they have another home to go to. I don’t! So I will pick one, so I can be with you, and make your life miserable. Just ask my husband, and I sorta like him. So don’t risk it with fireworks.

Fireworks events are the only time I can say to my precious little puppy girl, Candy, “You are above this now.” She was so terrified and there was no place in our home where she could find solace. I would take her to the small bathroom and lay on the floor with her. That’s where you’re supposed to go if a tornado were approaching and I wouldn’t have known the difference.

The animals in the woods deserve a break, too, particularly the deer. There must be eight different seasons, with special ones for hunters from nine to 99 and with guns, arrows etc. I don’t think they’ve okayed Okays yet, but they probably will.

I am told that a large personal supply of fireworks can cost $2,000. Think what that would mean to a bonafide charity like a children’s hospital or an animal rescue group.

In the TV spot for Shriners Hospital, this precious little guy is often featured. This one shows his mom helping him out of bed, into his clothes and into his wheelchair, all the while saying: “This is the best part of my day.” The next scene shows him at the hospital still saying, “This is the best part of my day.” Behind him is a little girl saying, “Now I can dance,” and by no means is she jitterbugging but swaying from one foot to another. Another child is saying, “Now I can ride my bike.”

St. Jude’s spot is focused on a mother, who in tears (and so am I) and is handing her baby over to the hospital attendant who is saying, “Don’t worry, we will take care of your baby.”

If you’re a pet person, as I am, you would appreciate Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. I know it’s for real because you can spend your vacation there, stay in a little cabin and help take care of the animals.

They go to disaster areas and reserve the affected animals, rehabilitate them, return to owners if found, or put up for adoption. They will have a home forever there if these options don’t work.

They got the dogs from that despicable football player’s fighting dog farm, and I believe one was able to be rehabilitated and adopted. I’d like to meet up with him just once. I know I couldn’t punch him out, but there’s other ways to bring a man down, and his patrons, too.

The sanctuary has all types of animals, birds, etc. and wild animals that have been hurt. They are rehabilitated and returned to the wild if able to survive there. Otherwise, forever home for them too. And yes, Jonathan, they do have a turtle; his name is Karakum, whatever that means.

Their aim is no-kill by 2025, working with shelters, rescue groups, etc. I wish they would establish a center near here.

Coral A. Ripple, who lives in Equinunk, PA, has been married to her husband, Jacob, for 57 years. She wrote a column for the Wayne Independent back in the day.

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