By David Rogers. July 6, 2019. BLOWING ROCK, NC — So much for modern-day weather forecasting.
A little more than an hour before the anticipated start of the annual fireworks display hosted by Blowing Rock Country Club, a drop of rain or two fell on the crowds of people waiting for the big show.
Above Galax Circle, in the parking lot of the Church of the Epiphany Catholic church, tailgaters shrugged off the mere sprinkles and continued with their cornhole games. In the old fairway below Galax Circle, the hundreds with “front row seats” in the natural amphitheater continued with picnic preparations. One tech-savvy celebrant smiled broadly in telling her crowd of appreciative family members, “It is supposed to be light rain for about 12 minutes, and then clear up completely.”
…The rushing waters striking his young frame, the would-be flood spraying in all directions.
Further down, Blowing Rock Country Club members and their many guests huddled under tents and under the roof of the Lakehouse as the sprinkles turned to light rain — nearby libations making it just that much more fun of an adventure. Some simply sat in their golf carts to literally “ride it out,” a few echoing the earlier forecast: 12 minutes and it will be gone.
It wasn’t meant to be. The light rain turned into a steady downpour. Then the steady downpour morphed into torrential buckets for a full half-hour or more. The pitter-patter of raindrops falling on a lake surface turned into a deafening roar. Cart paths became rivers. Those still walking out in the open wondered whether they would be swept away by the current — while a fearless boy “…made lemonade out of lemons…” by standing with delight in the rushing waters striking his young frame, the would-be flood spraying in all directions.
It is still the land of beckoning opportunity.
Most retreated to the warm confines of their cars ringing the golf course, on Galax Circle and Goforth Rd. to wait out the downpour. A few bravely stood their ground, standing, even huddled under umbrellas around their water-logged picnic.
“Have some of those baked beans, they should be OK since they were under tin foil,” said another. “Oops, I guess not. There is a rip in the foil!”
After the prolonged wait, the pyrotechnics did begin, even if onlookers could initially see very little through fog. At times, it was if the Star-Spangled Banner had been brought to life with “the rockets red glare.”
But hundreds, even thousands of High Country residents and their guests battled on into the night, their determined celebrations marching on, undeterred. It was still America’s birthday, after all — and however many our differences, it is still the land of beckoning opportunity.