Jody loved the 4th of July. The barbecues with family and friends; hot dogs and hamburgers sizzling on the grill; corn on the cob; homemade potato salad; fresh watermelon dribbling down our chins. But, Jody’s favorite thing had to be the 4th of July fireworks display on the East River.

Getting from our home on the west side of northern Manhattan to the east side of midtown Manhattan was always an adventure. A trip on the subway followed by a ride on the crosstown bus was a challenge for someone using a wheelchair, but Jody looked upon it like a commander leading his troops (me) into battle.

We knew there was an area reserved for physically challenged spectators; we headed that way. We found the entry point where the police officers on duty greeted us and led us to the viewing area like visiting dignitaries. Jody basked in the attention. Much to my amazement, we were situated right at the railing at the edge of the water — an unobstructed view.

While we waited for the sun to set and the show to begin, Jody, ever outgoing, chatted up all the others waiting with us in expectation. He always had a natural connection with others who struggled against obstacles that most people couldn’t understand. His natural rapport created a new cast of acquaintances.

Finally, the fireworks show started. I loved to watch Jody’s face as each mortar exploded high above the river. The wide grin on his face, the oohs and aahs, the laugh when a delayed boom caught him by surprise. He watch mesmerized, enraptured by the rainbow of colors overhead. After the grand finale, he whooped and hollered and clapped along with the other spectators. Then, he turned to me and jokingly said: “Home, James.” We fought our way through the crowds and eventually reached home both grateful to have shared another wonderful memory.