This is my first diary for the group and it recounts a memorable party that happened in Southern Baja many years ago. It will be in 5 parts and includes the time leading up to the party.
Let me introduce a side of myself that I have not really ever talked about on DK. I am an older (53 years) guy that has mostly been involved in communications and electronics in one way or another. There was however a wonderful time in my life when I worked pretty much full time in Pyrotechnics. I have worked for the famous Grucci Fireworks family in Long Island NY and as a Pyrotechnic plant manager for a company in the Adirondacks in NY. If fact it is at that plant that my wife and I bonded and set out on our inseparable course in life. From there we went on to do professional blasting in AZ and eventually moved to Baja Mexico where we lived for almost 9 years.
Now without further ado I introduce part one of what I think will be a 5 part diary.
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Part I.
We have always had a reputation my wife and I. As professional pyrotechnicians and licensed blasters our abnormal activities always surrounded us with a cast of colorful characters and our normal friends tended to live vicariously through our exploits. When we first started traveling to Baja we would always bring some tools of the trade and if we found ourselves in a spot for enough time would set up shop and mix up our favorite recipes. Simple things like snowball comets, willow shells, purple peonies and some flash bangs.
A pyros art is a patient one since making things from scratch requires many steps and shortcuts tend to shorten lives and not just the process. In a sense Baja with its serene beauty and timeless way of life was a perfect backdrop for these activities and it brought a wonderful joy to us and the Mexicans around us whenever we finally painted up the night sky for a few minutes. Back then we never gave much thought to the illegalities of our activities and there was a different feeling in the air about explosives and their creative applications. This was before Oklahoma city and 9/11 in a time when we were not ashamed and secretive of our passion for fire, we were artists and proud of it.
Gradually our abilities and experiments were noticed in the very small community that we began to call home. Fireworks are illegal in B.C.S as opposed to the North where they can be freely purchased and many Mexicans around us had never really seen nice fireworks. They were simple ranchers and children wanting only to survive and celebrate life. It is the celebrating part, that they quickly realized, could be enhanced by our little hobby. One of the more jovial residents of the area who specialized in making sandals from discarded tire treads and consuming as much beer as possible approached us one afternoon and asked if we would be willing to do some sort of a show for his wifes 40th birthday. He wanted to surprise her and was wondering if aside from the things he had seen us make was there not perhaps something extra and worthy of a such a momentous milestone in his wife?s life. Well Lynn and I instantly knew that the occasion called for an effect that we had perfected in the Arizona desert. We looked at Coco and asked "have you ever seen an atomic fireball", His eyes lit up and he threw his arms out in a great arc "you can do such a thing, it would be perfect, she would remember that for many years to come".
He went back to his truck and produced a cold Ballena, The universal 1 liter offering of friendship for many in Baja. He opened it and respectfully passed it to my wife first, "we must talk" he said. We explained that we wanted no money but that to produce the effect properly required something that was not easy to come by in Mexico, namely, dynamite. He was quiet for a few seconds and then said "tell me about this atomic fireball" We explained that when done properly it would produce a red fireball about 75 meters in diameter that would rise to a height of about 200 meters and look just like an atomic explosion. Well I might just have said I will give you free beer for the rest of your life. His eyes glazed over, under his breath he mumbled "pinchie cabron" and let out a long low whistle. We waited for this to settle in as the bottle was passed around in quiet contemplation and upon emptying it with great flourish, he announced "I know a Man". Now anyone that has lived in Baja or spent anytime there knows that those four words are usually the start of something that once put in motion takes on a life of it?s own........Part 2 to follow in a week or so.
Please feel free to join the group and post your own stories in the form of diaries or short anecdotes in the comments.