At the May 13, 2025, Washoe County Board of County Commissioners meeting, the Board approved a license for a fireworks display on our lake for the Fourth of July. Some may recall the brief respite from fireworks that were enjoyed in 2022 and 2023. But old habits and traditions die hard.

Despite what moderators of a popular Incline Village Facebook community group might think, I do not hate fireworks. Like others, I grew up enjoying the colors, the booms, and the crescendo as each show reached its grand finale. In high school and in college, I worked at a Major League Baseball stadium and made my way to the parking lot that staged the hundreds of explosives each July (note: this is not advised as ash and debris fall on you). To ring in 2022, my spouse and I attended what was advertised as the last fireworks display in Chile’s Viña del Mar along the Pacific Coast. This show was often praised as one of the longest and most spectacular in the world because, like Tahoe, multiple municipalities put on shows, and the best views of it were from the water. We boarded a boat with our wine and cheese, felt the electricity of the crowd at 11:59 p.m. when the Chilean Navy ships’ lights went out, and then were seemingly transported back to the American Revolutionary War when we felt the boom of the fireworks in our chest (and again had smoke and ash surrounding us by the end). Like Tahoe, Chile opted to move away from fireworks the next year, but that was short lived due to its impact on the economy and tourism. Like I said, old traditions die hard.

In jurisdictions that measure air pollution such as Utah, the worst air-quality day is historically July 4, when numbers can rise twenty times higher than normal. Even on July 5, air quality levels remain five times above average. Exposure to these coarse and fine particulates can harm children, older adults, and those with respiratory conditions, just to name a few. And heaven help us if wildfire smoke is in the air, too.

For a place so concerned about the effluent pipeline, aging lead cables in the Lake, and dog poop, we don’t seem too concerned about the heavy metals contained in the gunpowder and other toxic compounds that give fireworks their brilliant colors and find their way into our lake, soil, and drinking water. And as a community that claims to care about its wildlife inhabitants and domesticated four-legged friends, we seem to ignore them altogether during this time as well. Never mind that nearly 100 percent of U.S.-imported fireworks come from China.

Yes, fireworks are beautiful and a long-held tradition. But they are not American. Travel to countries in the Middle East and Europe (hello, Italian wedding celebrations), and you will find similarly spectacular displays. Opting for quieter, less polluting celebrations of our country’s fight for independence does not make us less American. If anything, it reinforces our commitment to protect and do right by our fellow citizens and Big Blue.

As Memorial Day weekend just passed and we remembered the sacrifices of those who died while serving our country, it would be nice to recommit ourselves to helping those who did not die but sometimes wish they had; those who live and work among us but whose battle wounds are not obvious. As a military veteran and the granddaughter of a World War II, Korea, and Vietnam veteran as well as the daughter of a Vietnam-era Marine and retired police officer, I have seen the effects of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder among my family members and friends. I have witnessed their reactions to sudden, loud noises. I have mourned early deaths from suicide and service-related ailments

If we really care about our most vulnerable populations, human and otherwise, and about preserving a natural resource and tourist attraction, we will find, fund, and advocate for other ways to collectively celebrate the birth of a nation.

Melissa Horton
Incline Village