From patriotic music to barbecues to games, there’s a lot to do to mark the occasion all throughout Monterey County for the Fourth of July.
There is only one fireworks show, and it’s sure to be a good one. The Salinas Rodeo Grounds are an epic venue for fireworks—seated in an arena looking down, you’re basically on top of them—and Compass Church knows how to throw a party. (This year they’re doing it independently, to avoid the very problematic church/state dynamic—enshrined in the Constitution, part of the whole point of celebrating this holiday—that they got into last year while seeking a city sponsorship.)
But anyone who lives in Salinas—or various other parts of Monterey County—knows there are actually dozens of fireworks shows. They are illegal, and they are dangerous and disruptive. Salinas Fire Division Chief and Fire Marshal Chris Knapp says that besides starting fires, it seems like every year someone loses a limb; last year it was a 14-year-old boy’s hand.
It’s hard to say quantitatively whether things are getting better, Knapp says, but he hears that they are—residents in some neighborhoods tell him it used to be brutal during Fourth of July, and now it’s relatively quiet. From his own observation, when he was assigned to Station 4 in East Salinas starting in 2008, “It was like a war zone. It’s still active, but not as active as it used to be.”
So far this season, SFD is receiving about 15 resident complaints a day, some with photos or video. (This helps when it comes time next week for officials to start issuing citations, which they plan to issue on July 10 after reviewing footage from the weekend. Last year, they issued 118 citations.)
It’s hard to know exactly what drives change, but Knapp thinks it might have to do with an expanded enforcement program. With a boost from temporary staff and technology, specifically drones, they build a heat map helping guide where to focus efforts on Friday-Saturday, July 3-4. “We’re finally at a point where we’re not just driving around looking for people using illegal fireworks,” Knapp says. “Otherwise, it’s like playing a game of cat and mouse.”
There’s also an administrative process that puts teeth into those citations—starting at $1,500 for a first offense—with a bureaucratic apparatus to back it up. Some people will set up payment plans, with help from the finance department. Those who simply ignore a citation will get a call from collections, referred through the finance department. People may also appeal, and go to a hearing coordinated by a third party. (Last year, about 10 people appealed; in every case, the city’s citation was upheld.)
“We’ve been really making sure we have a complete program from beginning to end, which has really made it a solid program, so people don’t have the belief that, ‘if I ignore this, it’s going to go away,’” Knapp says.
The message from police and fire officials in historic hot spots like Seaside and Salinas, where there are enhanced citations and enforcement programs, is exactly that: It’s not going to go away, and they are watching.
I don’t love neighbors tattling on each other, or the need for a city to invest in a year-round program to enforce fireworks rules. But I love the idea of safe, epic and legit fireworks events, and hope Salinas shows up to support the fact that it actually has one.