By Pamela Knudsen
When I read the news about the Fourth of July drone show, I burst into tears of joy. I know—a little overemotional, but the following backstory will give perspective.
I’ve lived in Laguna Beach for 20 years. In June of 2018, I moved from the canyon to a cottage in the “tree streets” neighborhood of north Laguna. One benefit of living in this location that I eagerly anticipated was being able to see the Heisler Park fireworks show from my patio. However, at the time, I had two cats and was concerned about the noise. I’d heard from a neighbor that many people in the neighborhood, especially those with dogs or cats, dread the Fourth—the loudness level was hard to take. Despite the warning, I couldn’t fathom how loud the fireworks would be. Jarring is an understatement. I’d invited a few friends over to enjoy the show, but upon witnessing the distress it caused in my cats, I struggled to find the joy. The following year was the same scenario. And by then, I wondered how a fireworks show within blocks of a residential neighborhood was permitted.
Over the following couple of years, my cats passed away. In the spring of 2021, I fell for a kitty up for adoption at the Laguna Beach Animal Shelter. The Fourth of July holiday arrived, and I’d hoped my new feline pal, Samantha Jo, would get through the fireworks shows anxiety-free with calming spray, ambient music and me by her side. Samantha Jo, perceiving danger, was inconsolable as she paced and growled at the explosive sounds, which reverberated in the floor and made the windows rattle. The sensory overload was a strain on me. I could feel her pain. Not only are we close to Heisler Park, also Emerald Bay, just a mile away. The sensory bombardment from both shows went on for 50 minutes. And just as we both recovered, the after-party started with people shooting off fireworks throughout the night.
By 2022, I dreaded the Fourth. I was no longer enthused by watching colorful explosions in the sky. I gave Samantha prescription anti-anxiety meds, hoping that would get her through the explosive sounds with minimal stress, but the meds did nothing. She displayed the same level of distress as the previous year. I realized then that I could no longer be home during the Fourth of July.
This spring, in preparation of the dreaded holiday, I began thinking about where Samantha Jo and I could go to escape the stressful impacts of fireworks shows. Last year, we found respite visiting my mom and stepdad. Then I read the news of the drone show, and relief overwhelmed me. Problem solved—I could stay home and experience a peaceful drone show!
I had no idea that drones could create images with such vibrancy and precision. I found the show mesmerizing. It was refreshing to see clear skies, unlike the smoke-filled sky from the Emerald Bay fireworks, which disrupted the tranquility that the drone show offered. We experienced slight relief without the volatile noise overhead, but booming sounds a mile away were loud enough to rouse Samantha’s stress levels and raise my blood pressure.
My experience isn’t singular. I hear more tales of distressed pets and people over fireworks.
I hope someday, that fireworks show become a nostalgic memory and that we embrace new traditions to celebrate America’s freedom in a more peaceful and safe way.
Pamela is the author of the children’s book “Two Cats, a Mermaid and the Disappearing Moon.” She volunteers at Laguna’s cat sanctuary, The Blue Bell Foundation for Cats.
