In the Suburbs / Begging for a non-holiday ceasefire

The squeals, pops and booms of fireworks have ended for now in our neighborhood, but we know that they could start again at any time. That's because the fireworks fanatics around here believe that everyday is the Fourth of July and Memorial Day. So they plan their displays without thinking that holidays are acceptable, and other times are a disturbance -- especially for those of us with neurotic dogs and families with little babies.

When we moved to our neighborhood on the Bridgeport border near the Brooklawn Country Club almost 10 years ago, it was the dead of winter, so we never thought about fireworks. But out of nowhere, one early evening in late May 2001, explosions and squeals sent our two Jack Russell Terriers tearing around the house and shrieking. The inside noise was blood curdling.

The fireworks lasted for more than an hour, and we kept waiting for some warning sirens to go off so we could take shelter. This non-holiday display sounded like a mortar attack. And our poor dogs were the real victims.

At first, I made the mistake of trying to figure out where the explosions were coming from and thought I'd narrowed it down to the immediate neighborhood. The sound seemed to be just down the block, but just when we thought we'd found the source, we heard fireworks across the street on the Bridgeport side of our street.

This happened at least three more times during the next week, and I decided to call the Fairfield police just to see if there were any legal limits on when residents could set off fireworks. We naturally assumed that holidays were the only time. Wrong.

The polite officer explained that these fireworks displays were not in good taste and asked if I wanted to make a complaint. I thought for a moment and finally said, "Since I'm not really sure which house the fireworks are from, I don't want to be difficult. I'm just concerned because I have high-strung dogs, who already go beserk during thunderstorms. This kind of noise just unnerves them more."

The officer apologized and basically said there was nothing he could do without an address and a formal complaint. So I went away quietly.

The next time the fireworks happened, it was another ordinary Saturday evening, so I put leashes on the barking dogs and took them out to track down the culprit. It was almost dark, but I spotted the lights on the Bridgeport side of the street about two blocks down. Even more bizarre was the line of cars along my street that had lined up to watch. "Great, I thought, we get subjected to squeals and explosions and this guy might as well sell tickets."

This time I called the Bridgeport police. They were also polite, but I got the immediate impression that they were familiar with this fireworks fanatic. When the officer told me they'd send someone to look into it, I had the sinking feeling it wasn't going to happen. And It didn't.

I learned more than five years later that my fireworks fanatic was a retired Bridgeport police officer, who loved entertaining the neighborhood and outsiders. Any complaint wouldn't stand a chance.

And you should see the street every Fourth of July. The cars are lined up almost to Villa Avenue.

Friends and some neighbors have shared similar stories that their dogs and sometimes babies tend to be the most shaken by the noise. Trust me, it's loud enough on Fairfield Beach. Try living it in your own neighborhood.

On the other hand, I've had other dog owners laugh the whole thing off and tell us that their animals are perfectly calm throughout thunderstorms and fireworks. How did I get so lucky?

We've considered just taking the dogs and going to a hotel for every Fourth of July, but that hasn't happened. And one year, when I opened the front door to check on the crowds, our little Jack Russell female, Sadie, slithered past me shrieking and ran all the way up the road toward the country club in the dark. We were beside ourselves. Thankfully, she returned in about 45 minutes, shivering but very grateful to be back home in our arms.

Our other lunatic just keeps shrieking and running around the house. And this year, the fireworks started three days before the Fourth and continued for two days after the holiday. My wife and I were a little shell shocked.

This column is an indictment of no one. It is simply the concerns of a quiet neighbor entreating other neighbors, who set off fireworks, to please consider our dogs and the dogs or little babies of other neighbors. We totally embrace the squeals and explosions that symbolize our independence, but it's those impromptu displays, booming out of nowhere that turn our lives upside down.

Steven Gaynes' "In the Suburbs" appears each Friday. He can be reached at steven.gaynes@yahoo.com.