Every year, on Labor Day weekend at Dover City Park, there is a celebration to honor another summer that has passed and is done with. Of course, this festival is very creatively named The End of Summer Celebration. It is a timeless tradition here in town that local patrons look forward to. Here in the Midwest of the Midwest, we love a good celebration with overpriced, unhealthy food and fireworks.
Speaking of overpriced food and fireworks, I’d like to get into the specifics of this year’s celebration because there were a few conundrums. The food was overpriced this year, considering its quality. I didn’t personally get anything since I wasn’t there for very long or in the center of the festivities. But, according to fellow Crimsonian staff members, the food was subpar, and Caleb had to “throw away [his] barbeque sandwich after the first bite.” If you’ve attended any similar town festival, you know it isn’t common as our local vendors are usually sufficient, so the prices don’t undermine the “experience.” It’s as if these things don’t happen every year, right?
On to conundrum number two, the Firework Fiasco. The weather all day leading up to the much-anticipated firework show was perfect: the quintessential fall day. Being a literature and media connoisseur, this should’ve immediately told me something was bound to go awry, completely wrong, and borderline chaotic, if you will. It was a sort of too-good-to-be-true moment. As I was walking around the park with my best friend, Madilyn Marshall, I pondered the atmosphere while making our first lap, which ended in getting reprimanded by some unknown fireworks authorities. Something in my bones told me it was off, but I ignored it, being the basic fall-addicted white girl I am because of the refreshing crisp breeze. I should have trusted my gut and goosebumps because, as per usual, I wasn’t dressed for the weather. Nonetheless, we continued trekking towards our destination, the pond, and its surrounding walking path.
After our run-in with the law and some old friends I hadn’t seen in far too long, we finally settled into a cozy swinging bench on the far side of the pond, closest to the pool on top of the hill. This is the moment we definitely should’ve realized plans wouldn’t go accordingly. As we sat and talked about everything under the sun (quite literally), the sky darkened, and our faces dropped with anguish. It was going to rain! How could this have happened? How could we have completely abandoned our weather apps in a blind flurry of fake fall happiness? We were shell-shocked when a thunderous boom sounded throughout the cove of trees surrounding us. As we looked around, we realized the fireworks were starting over an hour early! A storm on the horizon was approaching fast, and a drizzle was already starting. The fireworks were released rapidly, one after another, to try to beat the rain. The race was on, and eventually, it came to a dark, smokey close as the fireworks authorities won!
Madilyn and I started to walk back to her car during the conclusion of the fireworks, which felt exactly the same as the rest of the show since there wasn’t enough time to do the grand finale justice. As always, it was hectic trying to leave, so Madilyn and I sat in her car and waited out the rain while trying to decide what to do while the night was still young. We settled on Softie’s after way too much deliberation. Apparently, a few other people did, too, but I digress.
So, back to the lackluster End of Summer Celebration: 2024 edition. To summarize the experience you just went on that surely made you feel as though you were right there with us in the rain and smog; it was overpriced, not very fun, and cut too short. I’d also like to shout out the Elvis impersonator whose mic was barely functioning and the local band whose performance was very short-lived due to the weather interruption. If you went to the festival and regretted it, many people were right there with you. If you didn’t go and still regret it, you didn’t miss much. The only truly positive thing I have left to mention is the car show. Who doesn’t love a good car show? The souped-up vintage vehicles are a hit with every age, whether you know what carburetor, engine coolant, suspension, and whole body frame mean or not.
Overall, it was horrible but mildly entertaining, and I’ll definitely be returning next year for more traditional small-town fun. Clearly, we can’t ever get enough of it around here.
