An Independence Day to Remember

In northwestern Pennsylvania there is a small, blue-collared lake community that in summer draws hot, tired urbanites like flies from Erie and Pittsburgh. The lake is surrounded by forests and fields and it is not unusual to see deer or even a black bear make an early morning pilgrimage down among the cottages for a refreshing slurp of water.

We are there for a festive family reunion and one night the community stages an impressive fireworks display, funded by intensely loyal contributors who, by golly, love their country and their fireworks. As the skies slowly darken (10pm for full nightfall in this region), the children dance about and swoosh and swirl their sparklers, anticipating the big show. Then it begins, with glorious cascading colors and earth-shaking booms from the ridge above the western side of the lake. But to the great discomfort of Yogi, a little black Schipperke who thinks the world is coming to an end. He is barking incessantly, in distress, and definitely not enhancing the experience of the assembled throng.

So Yogi and master retire to a car parked down by the road. There, ensconced with the windows rolled up, he feels safe and relaxes while master still has a stellar view of the proceedings. Clicking on the radio and randomly tuning the nearest station, the lovely strains of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony Number 4 blend with the muffled bangs and pops and colorful, flowing blooms in the sky. As both symphony and grand finale come to an end, smoke drifting away under the stars, the radio announcer thanks the source of audio loveliness, a live orchestra at the Chautauqua Institute, only 50 miles away.

Chautauqua is at once a county in western New York state, a lake, a village on that lake, an Institute, and a cultural touchstone. In 1874, businessman Lewis Miller and minister (to become Bishop) John Heyl Vincent started a summer camp on Chautauqua Lake to “educate and uplift” the public. In the days before television and radio and the internet, these programs became immensely popular and “Chautauquas” were mimicked around the country. Touring Chautauquas came into being, bringing lectures and music and poetry to the small-town, rural masses, all to great acclaim.

At their peak in the mid-1920s, Chautauquas educated, informed, and entertained over 45 million people in 10,000 communities in 45 states. Although traveling Chautauquas are a vestige of the past, the Chautauqua Institute persists to this day and caters to over 140,000 people each year with concerts and lectures and courses in art, music, dance, theater, writing skills and a wide variety of other interests.

Later, near midnight, driving back to our pet-friendly motel 15 miles distant, we witness a fantastic display of lightning from a storm rolling in from Lake Erie and points west in Ohio. Cloud to ground, ground to cloud, and cloud to cloud lightening rend the western sky with blinding streaks of light. Towering cumulonimbus clouds are lit from within with flashes of purple and red and white. It’s as if God, after witnessing our puny fireworks a bit earlier, is saying “behold, this is the real thing!”