Garrison Keillor gave his last Lake Wobegon Tale a day too soon. The little town of Grand Lake gave him material on the 4th to do an encore.
It begins with the great excitement and anticipation of the 4th of July fireworks.
Crowds by the thousands from out of town and out of state have gathered everywhere
they may to get a view of Colorado's somewhat small, yet largest natural lake.
Any view of the sky and the dark mountains rising above would be excellent.
The atmosphere will soon be punctuated with the finest fireworks any town may buy in 2016.
A heavily laden barge, bristling with canons, remains hidden at the far east end of the lake.
As night falls, twenty men who have been preparing for days and months, behold the most
incredible array of explosives they have ever assembled on a singe raft.
The time comes to secretly pull her out to the center of the lake: rockets by the hundreds,
rockets within rockets ready to paint the sky with every shimmering color, smiley faces,
and golden showers raining into the gaping mouths of children looking up, while bobbing in small boats.
Quietly, at the east end of a lake, a boat pulls on the lines of the barge to ease her out into the lake away
from her little cove. The lines become taut . . . and hold firm. Nothing moves. The little tug boat's engine
roars and raises the tensions and excitement as forty hard working people imagine their creation gliding out
onto the lake. The wonder and astonishment comes quickly. In the group-think of everyone gazing
at the explosive raft in its hours of preparation, it had not yet occurred to anyone that the barge
may be sitting at rest in the calm of its cove, because a bar of sand holds her fast.
Can you taste the raw Garrison Keillor material being served up here by a little town
that Time may well forget, after this incident . . . . unless, against all hope,
Garrison gives an encore performance right here in Grand Lake!
Grand Lake's fire-boat and yet another boat, three boats in all are
called into service to nudge the barge off of the sandbar . . .
3 boats and men pushing and rocking with the fireworks hanging on and then trying
even harder to hang on as the barge
meets the chop on the lake . . . . The crowds are thinning. It's a long pull and one cannot rush it without
disrupting the equilibrium on the barge. A pale of disbelief casts over the uninformed and anxious crowd
as it wrestles with an unexpected silence.
and now a note from the orchestra . . . 
Rocky Mountain Repertory Theatre
"Since you will not be seeing them, yet hearing them sawing