The calendar was wrong, but my heart wasn't

For many, many years my brain has told me that in the Bicentennial Summer of 1976, the July 4 holiday fell on a Saturday, just as it does this year.

Not true. Product of my imagination. An old man misremembering.

July 4 was on a Sunday 50 years ago, and my memories instead are of Saturday, July 3, the day that Burke County actually celebrated the 4th.

The day, and the National Weather Service backs me up on this, was typical North Carolina summertime — hot, but nothing like the “heat dome” we have endured this week, dry, with only a small chance of afternoon thunderstorms.

One of my main buds that summer was a lanky, long-haired fellow named Keith Price. He used to play bass guitar in a well-known Morganton band called “Stash.”

We had met while working at the Village Inn Pizza Parlor, a couple of working-class boys — one from Drexel, the other from Salem — who aspired to better things.

We rendezvoused that warm Saturday morning in downtown Morganton, probably parking somewhere around the Old Courthouse Square, with the intention of watching the city’s July 4 parade.

It was so impressive, we actually watched it twice.

For our first viewing, we stood on the corner of Union and Green and watched the parade process northward.

We then strolled up Union, stood on the corner of Union and Sterling and watched the parade process to the south.

Don’t remember a thing about that parade — firetrucks, floats, marching bands — except that it was mighty short. Wouldn’t hold a candle, Roman or otherwise, to today’s America 250 Parade in downtown Glen Alpine.

At some point after the parade, we drove down Union Street, probably in Keith’s 1974 Ford Pinto, to the westside Tastee Freeze. (Another Tastee Freeze was located directly across from Western Piedmont Community College. The Union Street Tastee Freeze eventually morphed into Silver Creek Restaurant while the Burkemont Avenue location became Allison’s Restaurant.)

(Another Tastee Freeze story. Decades ago, my friend Paul Wardzinski had applied for a teaching position at WPCC. He arrived very early for the interview and so pulled into Tastee Freeze for a cup of coffee. Paul was applying for jobs all over the place and he couldn’t remember if the name of the small city he was in was Morganton or Morgantown. Not wanting to make a faux pas in his upcoming interview, he approached the young woman behind the counter and said, “Ma’am, could you tell me where I am and please pronounce it slowly.” Without missing a beat, she replied, “TAASSTTEE FREEEEEZE!” He got the job anyway, taught for more than three decades, and, once upon a time taught me how to run marathons.)

But … back to Tastee Freeze on July 3, 1976.

The restaurant that day was offering up a Bicentennial Special — an all-the-way hot dog, a small order of french fries, and a small soft drink or tea — all for the amazing price of 76 cents.

Keith and I were growing boys. I think we each ate three of the specials. Even with that number, lunch still cost less at $2.38 than my hourly wage at Drexel Furniture Company — $2.50. Quite the deal.

After the excitement of a morning parade and a heavy hot dog lunch, one might have expected those two lads to head home for an afternoon nap. But no, we had still one more piece of holiday revelry to enjoy.

The Mimosa Theater, conveniently located where the Kin2kin Restaurant now stands, was offering, in honor of our nation’s 200th birthday, a Marx Brothers double feature for the princely admission price of 25 cents.

The twin bill consisted of “Animal Crackers,” home to the famous “Hooray to Captain Spalding, The African Explorer,” song, and “Horsefeathers,” in which Groucho served as president of the fictional Huxley University.

Unfortunately, for two devoted fans of the Marx Brothers, the theater was filled by noisy rabble, all under the age of 10, and none with an appreciation for the rapid repartee and ongoing string of double entendres that made the Brothers so popular.

We made it through “Animal Crackers” but left before the midpoint of “Horse Feathers,” the only disappointment in an otherwise very pleasant day.

Keith and I parted company after leaving the theater, and at that point my memory simply stops. Can’t remember if Morganton had a fireworks show that year. Can’t remember if I attended. Fifty years is a long time.

Memory has a funny way of polishing the past. It even convinced me for years that July 4, 1976, fell on a Saturday. It didn’t.

But my heart knew what it was remembering. Not a date on a calendar, but one perfect summer day when friendship was easy, hot dogs were 76 cents, a movie ticket cost a quarter, and the future seemed as wide open as a Carolina sky.

Those are the kinds of Independence Days worth remembering.