World Fair, Fireworks and Fate - Stories for my grandchildren

Something in a current TV commercial jogged a faint memory of something that happened in 1964, and it occurred to me that I need to record for posterity the story of my trip to the New York World's Fair. But which story to tell? The one about driving cross country non-stop in a Ford Econoline loaded with photographic equipment, with the side door tied open to scoop air to blow away the acid fumes from a battery that boiled the entire trip? Or driving that same van through rush-hour Manhattan traffic on an equipment run? Or the 10,000 pictures I took of the Statue of Liberty from the Staten Island Ferry? Or the run-in we had with the Teamsters Union entering the Fairgrounds? Or... so many stories! I may have to revisit this topic often.

We did all of our filming at the fairgrounds late at night (see above about unions for the reason) so that left our days free, for the most part, to take in the Fair. We had photo-id badges that identified us as exhibitors to gain access to the fairgrounds, but we soon learned that they also gave us access to exhibits and restaurants without standing in long lines. Sort of professional courtesy. So we took in everything, and it was a grand experience!

One evening we had planned on doing some exterior filming, catching the spectacle of the brightly-lighted exhibits, the colorful pedestrian walkways, the vivid fountains and the like, but a thunderstorm brought that to a halt. We took refuge at the IBM exhibit which had a broad canopy of "trees," made of plastic sky-lights, supported by steel trunks. These sheltered the folks in line as they moved up a series of risers to gain access to the exhibit itself, the idea being that this was a covered garden. The line was short, so we decided this was an ideal time to visit the very popular IBM display.

The only problem was, like real trees, water could leak through and pretty soon we were standing in wet puddles on steel walkways, surrounded by wet steel trunks and railings, and as we progressed up the risers, waiting our turn,  a host of people seeking to get out of the weather crowded in behind us, blocking us in. At this point, the storm was right on top of us and the lightning was frighteningly close; every few seconds there was a blinding flash and an immediate BOOOOOM and the hair on your arms and neck would stand up a little higher.

You know the common wisdom about not seeking shelter under a tree during a lightning storm? How about a couple of hundred trees? Metal trees. While standing on wet risers, trying not to touch the wet rails surrounding you. FLASH! BOOOOM! Gasp!

But there's more. Every night at 10pm, the Fair provided a spectacular fireworks display! You know, rockets red glare, giant aerial bombs, incredible pyrotechnics! All bursting up from hidden housing in the middle of the lagoon immediately across the walkway from the IBM site! Every loudspeaker on the fairgrounds would begin booming Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever - and there were a lout of loudspeakers.

So the lightning is crashing, the pyrotechnics are flashing, the walls are shaking, the hair is standing and I am thinking - If I'm going to go, this will be the most spectacular send-off in history!

To the great relief of my grandchildren, I survived that experience, so they are around to read about it. But it really would have been a send-off!