The Wedding Proposal Fiasco

After a few years of doing my own fireworks, I guess I had built a reputation in the family as the guy to see about doing something really impressive for special occasions. Perhaps Dan Clark hadn't heard all the family stories about the failures and fiascos, because he seemed to have full confidence that I could create a memorable experience on the occasion when he wanted to ask our daughter Emily to marry him. It was sometime in the summer of 2001 when Dan asked me to create a fireworks display where the finale would be a big sparkling depiction of the proposal, "Will you marry me, Emily?" Dan had already done his duty earlier and asked me for my permission to ask her the big question. Now he wanted me to make a memory that would become legend in the family annuls. In that regard, I was somewhat successful, but not quite the way I had intended.

For the next few weeks, I planned and constructed the fireworks show that would be performed at the Miele farm about a half mile away from our home in Windham. My plan was to construct the display for the wedding proposal out of sparklers arranged in such a way as to spell out the words of the question. The sparklers were mounted on a framework of peg board sheets mounted to vertical posts that were sledge-hammered into the ground. Now, the professionals often do something similar to create a display of some kind of a figure, like an eagle head or some other patriotic symbol, for fireworks show finales. However, they are usually constructed using tubes of slow burning chemicals, called "lances", such that the fiery display is visible for about 20 to 30 seconds. I reasoned that I could create the same effect of using sparklers instead of the customary lances. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to test my new innovation to see if the effect would be the same. I simply forged ahead confident that my knowledge of fireworks construction was based on sound principles.

The only real trick to the display, I reasoned, was to get all the sparklers lit in a short amount of time, so the whole display was visible at once. To do this, I created hundreds of feet of a special kind of fuse called "sticky match". It is nothing more than a train of gun powder placed down the middle of ordinary clear packing tape. When properly attached to the ends of the sparklers, the sticky match was supposed to burn very quickly, at approximately 10 feet per second, so it would light all the sparklers in a matter of a few seconds. I could just imagine in my mind the wonder and awe on the faces of my enraptured audience when they beheld the majesty of my creation as it dramatically lit the night sky.

On the night of the fateful event, I successfully lit the smaller items that I had constructed for the early part of the fireworks show. All was going well until I lit the fuse for the finale. The sticky match worked beautifully. It quickly raced along as intended and lit all the sparklers in short order. However, the sparklers burned so hot that they didn't just burn at the tip, like a sparkler is supposed to do. Instead of creating a nice sparkly sentence, the whole display went up in a big ball of fire and then went out just as suddenly. Instead of gasps of excitement and cheers from the audience, there was only an awkward air of confusion. Dan Clark knew it was his big moment and did some quick thinking to salvage the opportunity of his lifetime. He quickly ran over to where Emily was standing and got down on one knee and asked Emily if she would be his wife for time and all eternity. Before Emily could answer, I explained to her that I had constructed a final fireworks piece that would allow her to reply with more than a verbal "yes or no". I had made two fireworks fountains for this purpose. If Emily lit one of them, the answer would be no, but if she lit two, the answer would be yes.

The night air was tense with anticipation as Emily slowly made her way over to the place where the two fountains awaited her choice. She lit the first one, which shot a few paltry sparks about 5 feet into the air. Then, she lit the second one. It was a huge monster that ejected bright golden sparks nearly 80 feet into the air. It was intended to be a dramatic way to say, "Of course I will marry you!!" It was a memorable contrast to the earlier epic failure. This time, I achieved the effect I had hoped to see on the faces of everyone present as the huge fountain roared to life and filled the darkness with a spectacular painting of fire.

Fortunately, the final success erased the shame of the first failure. It was a night to remember and an eternity to celebrate. The results of that decision have been just as spectacular and will build a legacy of love and devotion that will endure forever.