Red-Blooded Dynamite

Time was, when people heard an explosion, they just knew it was something big. The old gas tank out in Everett couldn't last forever, and the fireworks factory in Waltham, well, it was only common sense to expect that to blow sky high, and there were those manhole covers in South Boston, always popping off and scaring a lot of honest people. Yes-sir, those were the days when a bang meant trouble.

Nowadays, a man just can't be sure. With all these people blasting away with dynamite and gunpowder, it's getting so he can't tell a real honest-to-goodness explosion from a fella trying to have a little good clean fun. Why, if all the blasts heard around here were the real McCoy, Cambridge would be as bare today as a Kansas wheatfield after a record harvest.

They say a dude set off 17 sticks of blasting powder across the river last week, and blew up a goodly portion of riverbank along with it. 17 sticks is a powerful lot of dynamite, even for a lark. It wasn't very thoughtful of him either, cause the City of Boston spent a pile of money a few years back filling in the very same hole he blew the dirt out of.

Then there were those youngsters who wanted to ruin a real fine football game by setting off a pile of gunpowder in the middle of the field, and the other fellas who shot a bunch of Roman candles into the Yalie stands.

This isn't the sort of stuff that red-blooded Americans ought to do, especially with the world in the awful fix it's in. But it sure is lucky that the younger generation hasn't figured out how to make those atom bombs, considering the way young rowdies are blowing up everything in sight. You bet your sweet life it's lucky!