If you lived on the Southside in the 1960s or the ’70s, you knew one thing for sure: Powderhorn Park was the place to be on the Fourth of July. Not Lake Nokomis. Not Lake Harriet. Not Minnehaha Falls, but Powderhorn Park was the place to be.
By late afternoon, half the Southside was already there. The other half was on their way. The entire park buzzed with life: Hundreds of families staked out spots on blankets. Kids tossed footballs, frisbees, and tennis balls across the grass. Vendors sold hot dogs, hamburgers, corn on the cob, lemonade, ice cream bars, and cheap glow necklaces. Teenagers strutted around the lake—laughing loud, walking slow, trying to impress whoever was watching. And in the center of it all, Powderhorn Lake reflected the sky like a big piece of glass, the sun bouncing off the water as the day drifted toward evening.
The group walked in together—Derrick, Tony, Marcus, Leon, Reggie—and the girls—Yolanda, Terri, Cathy, and of course, Tasha. They’d eaten early dinners at home and met at Tony’s house before heading over as a group. The moment they stepped into the park, the energy hit them like a wave.
Music floated in from every direction—The Stylistics, The Dramatics, Aretha Franklin, Sly & The Family Stone. People danced near picnic tables. Kids ran so wild adults stopped trying to keep up. The air smelled like charcoal, popcorn, and July heat. The girls decided to walk around the lake first.
“That’s what everybody does,” Terri told Tasha. “You walk the lake to see who you see.”
The boys followed—but at a distance—because coolness must be maintained. Leon flexed his shoulders.
“We gotta look right. Girls be out here watching.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Man, it’s hot. Don’t nobody care.”
Tony elbowed Derrick.
“Look at Tasha over there. You nervous?”
Derrick shook his head, failing to hide his smile.
“Nah.” Reggie laughed. “He lying.” And yet Derrick’s chest warmed again when Tasha turned and gave him a small smile.
The walkway around the lake was packed—every few steps they ran into someone they knew: Kids from the neighborhood, doing the same thing they were. Kids from other neighborhoods, that went to other schools. Older teens who acted like they were grown. Tasha looked around with wide eyes.
“Wow… this is what y’all do every Fourth?”
“Pretty much,” Terri said. “It’s kind of our tradition.”
“This is nice,” she said softly.
Cathy threw her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “
“See? I told you the Southside was cool.”
As they reached the shaded side of the lake, Tasha slowed. The others continued ahead, joking and laughing. Derrick hesitated for a moment—then slowed too. Soon it was just the two of them walking side by side, the late sunlight glistening off the water.
“You okay?” Derrick asked gently. Thinking about the shooting at Phelps the other day.
Tasha nodded. “I think I am. I was scared”
Derrick looked out over the lake.
“Yeah, me too.” He said. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“Me too,” Tasha replied. “It’s crazy how fast things change.”
Derrick nodded slowly. They walked a few steps in silence, the sound of laughter echoing across the water. Then Tasha said something unexpected.
“You know… this reminds me a lot of my old neighborhood in St. Paul. People are close. It feels… safe. Even with everything that happened. It still feels safe.”
Derrick blinked. He hadn’t thought about it like that. But she was right. Even with danger, drama, fights, everything… there was love here. Connection. Neighbors who watched out for you. Kids who grew up like cousins.
“I never thought about it like that before, but you’re right.” Derrick said. “I’m glad you feel that.”
Tasha glanced at him.
“I do,” she said. “Especially when I’m with you.”
Derrick looked at her and smiled, as his heart did a flip.
She looked down, smiling, the braids brushing her shoulders.
Just before the fireworks, everyone returned to the big hill overlooking the lake. Blankets spread everywhere. Kids bounced with excitement. Parents leaned back on elbows, waiting. Vendors shouted last calls for snacks.
The crew settled onto a big patch of grass—boys on one side, girls on the other, though the lines blurred fast as everyone leaned in talking. Fireflies danced across the tall grass. The sky deepened from purple to navy blue. Derrick sat close to Tasha—not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth from her arms. She hugged her knees and looked up at the sky.
“I love fireworks,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” Derrick asked.
“They feel… magical. Like the whole world stops for a minute.”
Derrick nodded. “I think so too.”
A soft breeze moved across the lake. The crowd quieted. And then— BOOM! The first firework exploded across the night sky, lighting up everything. Children gasped. Teenagers shouted. Adults clapped. Color after color flashed—red, blue, gold, green—shimmering over the water. The kids leaned back, eyes wide, hearts full. During one long sparkling burst, Tasha leaned slightly toward Derrick until their shoulders touched—just barely, but enough. She didn’t move away. Neither did he.
Another firework launched— a huge one, with a long trail, bursting into a massive golden bloom overhead. Tasha whispered, almost under her breath, but Derrick heard it:
“This is the best Fourth I’ve had in years.”
He turned toward her.
“Yeah… me too.”
She looked at him, and for a second—the beautiful, soft kind of second—neither of them looked away. Then she smiled. A quiet, warm smile that felt like its own firework. The kind that doesn’t fade.
After the fireworks like always, Powderhorn emptied slowly. Families packed up blankets. Kids held sparklers. Teens lingered to keep moments going just a little longer. The group walked together down Chicago Avenue, laughing, replaying everything from the night.
Marcus: “Did you see that girl in the purple shirt that we passed. Man, she was checking me out.”
Leon: “Then why didn’t you try and talk to her.”
Reggie: “Man, Marcus, that girl wasn’t paying no attention to you!”
Tony: “But she was paying attention to me. Next time I see her, I’m gonna get her number.”
Terri: “Y’all too loud.”
Yolanda: “They’re imagining thing.”
Cathy: “They suren are. Hey Marcus. Guess who asked about you tonight?”
Marcus: “Who? That fine girl in the purple I was talking about?”
Cathy: “Nope!” Cathy laughed. “No one asked about you. Out of all the people out there tonight, not one person asked about you tonight.”
As the whole group fell out laughing, Marcus shot Cathy a friendly glare.
Behind them—just a step back from the crowd—Derrick and Tasha walked together.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?” Derrick asked.
“For making this a nice summer,” she said.
Derrick felt the words sink into him—warm, steady, perfect.
“You make it nice too,” he said. “Man, don’t we sound corny.” He laughed.
Tasha smiled at the ground, then at him. And under the dim streetlights, with distant fireworks from other parks still echoing, Derrick knew something with absolute certainty: This summer was theirs. And it was only getting started.