Looking back on looking up

We moved to Lisle when I was quite young. Tate Woods can attest to that fact. But even before Tate Woods, I knew about Eyes to the Skies. In fact, it qualifies as my very first memory of Lisle, IL 60532.

My family had just moved in. I think it was June 30. Moving day is one of the most difficult days there are. I didn't know that at the time. I remember waking up too early. It was much harder on my parents I am sure, but again, I didn't know that at the time.

What I do know is we had real hot-air balloons floating over my house! They were so loud and so quiet. I will forever seek out that lilt. You could wave and those mythical balloon people would wave back! You could even hear them say "Good Morning!" I remember those balloons about 10 feet up. Certainly, Michael Jordan could have jumped on board with ease.

After the balloons floated over our new house, we began one of the great Lisle traditions, the strawberry waffle at The Fox. I don't remember if my father tried to drive down Short Street that morning, but either way, that was the day Eyes to the Skies (and strawberry waffles) became a part of me.

The next year, Eyes to the Skies became my favorite part of the year. But not the 4th. Not the parade. Not the corn dogs. Not even the fireworks. No, it was all about the all-you-can-ride night at the carnival. It was the evening before Eyes to the Skies began. It was everything for all the boys my age. I think it was just as important for the girls, but it would be a few years before they mattered, so I can't be sure.

I remember the Gravitron more than anything else. Those early days of the '90s were an awful lot like the '80s. Safety was loose. Especially that Springsteen-esque first night. No handlebars. No seat belts. No roof. If you timed it right, you could flip upside down, providing a sensation that has not been matched since.

There were bad hot dogs and good lemonade. There were carnival games no one could win. Except the football players. Those Blue and White football players always seemed to make the shots no one else could. Their dates left with gigantic stuffed animals that made a boy jealous, even though our childhood stuffed animals were slowly being disowned.

While I never wore that Blue and White football jersey, I did get to wear my Little League armor. We all did. We were marvelous. Maybe it was Farm, maybe it was Mustang, maybe it was Bronco. I even remember wearing rubber spikes on the Gravitron. It was perfect.

The real goal for us Lisle baseball players was to play in one of the Bronco All-Star Games. Those were the games played while the carnival was in full swing. At bat, one could hear Ace of Base over and over again. From the field you could smell the popcorn. Strangers would stop and watch the game. For a moment, we were the very definition of All-Stars.

If you played in the Bronco A game and the game went long, the fireworks might start when you were on the field. We tried to get hit by fireworks detritus. That was our Holy Grail. And it happened every year. By now, my generation is leading the next generation into the detritus. Oh, how I hope they still play that game during the fireworks.

My baseball career did not survive girls. I can't remember exactly when the Ferris wheel replaced the Gravitron. I don't remember when hand-holding became more important than dropped fly balls, but it happened. While our Eyes were to the Skies.

Soon, my friends were the ones hitting those shots and winning those stuffed animals. I even got to carry one home. I don't think I made the shot. I don't even think I got to hold her hand. But I did get to carry that pink bear home.

We would get there early and leave late. We would make fun of the kids going to their first Lisle Fest. They were embarrassingly young. We would respectfully watch the baseball game and remind each other that we never, ever dropped a flyball.

Then "The Fest" became too expensive. Like $10 a day or some nonsense. We found ways around it. You could volunteer for the Rotary Club and then shower for a week with your volunteer wristband still on. At some point you could sneak into the night swim and then sneak into The Fest. One year, we were in the parade and just never left.

By the time it got to $15, we wouldn't even go in. But we would get close for the fireworks. So close. Sometimes from the East, once from the South, usually from the West. We said they were the best fireworks around. Certainly better than Naperville.

It took me leaving Lisle and coming back to return my Eyes to the Skies. We even went early one morning to see the balloons again. Followed by corned beef hash at The Fox.

Summer during my childhood was the "Lisle Fest." I am not sure if it lost its way or I did, but things were never the same.

Yet, the Fourth is still my favorite holiday. I seek out borderline carnivals. I love bad cover bands. Fireworks and hot air balloons mesmerize me more than ever. I guess it was just as good as I remember. Maybe even better.

Keep your Eyes on the Skies, I know I will.

• Justin Heath, of Chicago, is a political and policy professional with experience across the state of Illinois. He is a graduate of Lisle Public Schools, Ohio State University and DePaul University.