Editorial: Big-bang fireworks can be dangerous, but Florida refuses to ban the boom

In some Central Florida neighborhoods, the war is already on. Rockets’ red glare? Check. Bombs bursting in air? You betcha. And as this week progresses, we’ll see even more: From the twilight’s last gleaming to the dawn’s early light, the thunder, boom and flash of home-launched fireworks will be shaking foundations and lighting up the sky.

And yeah, almost all of the really fun ones — the bottle rockets, the firecrackers, the beautiful aerial displays that take the shapes of peonies, palm trees, chrysanthemums and interlocking, tri-colored rings — are illegal for private citizens in Florida to purchase or use. But that law has two significant loopholes of a size to drive dozens of tractor-trailers through, bearing enough controlled pyrotechnics to fill hundreds of parking-lot tents and store shelves.

So “illegal” doesn’t mean much, except for this: Because fireworks are technically illegal, the state (and some municipalities) have done far too little to ensure that they are safe. And because the purchase of these more elaborate displays is restricted to people who are happy to ignore the reality of the law, it’s not surprising that high-intensity fireworks are often operated with a level of discourtesy that shatters the peace and quiet of neighbors, and a disregard for basic safety considerations.

The latter problem is by far the biggest. The Consumer Product Safety Commission has tallied a steady increase in injuries due to privately purchased fireworks since 2007, with more than 10,000 cases reported in 2022 and at least 11 deaths. That is almost certainly an undercount. There’s no requirement to record and report fireworks injuries, and many burns might not result in visits to the emergency room.  The most significant cause by far is mishandling of fireworks, but pyrotechnic malfunction is also a problem. People injured by fireworks often have little recourse, especially for those purchased in here-today-gone-tomorrow tents. There’s also the problem of evidence: Often, it’s impossible to determine fault from the scraps of charred cardboard that remain after the fireworks are deployed.

It’s pretty clear, however, that a large number of Floridians take little of this into account when they load up their carts with hundreds of dollars’ worth of explodable merchandise.

Typically, this is where government steps in. For years, Florida made a reasonable show of restricting major fireworks that flew into the sky or exploded  (though minor displays like sparklers, smoke bombs and fountains that emitted shooting sparks were always legal).  But gradually, ambitious dealers and enthusiastic consumers stretched state law to the point of easy avoidance. There were a few legal reasons to use fireworks; the most notorious and ridiculous was an exemption for farmers who wanted to scare birds away from their crops. Eventually, all Florida residents had to do to purchase the big booms was to sign an affidavit swearing that they met the criteria of the law. Thus, Florida’s agricultural worker population grew tremendously during the first week of July and the last week of the year.

Year after year, public safety officials pleaded with the state to close this loophole. Instead, in 2020, lawmakers added an even bigger opening: Shooting off major pyrotechnics would be legal on three days — Independence Day, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Of course, there was no restriction on when those fireworks could be purchased. From a practical standpoint, the three-day restriction could easily be extended to 365 days a year.

Meanwhile, cities and counties could enforce bans on the sale of fireworks to consumers, and block home-grown displays (assuming these rules were in place prior to 2022). But many no longer bother. With powerful fireworks readily available, few communities have the resources to track down the perpetrators of individual displays. Even in relatively controlled environments — such as publicly owned beaches — law enforcement finds itself outgunned. Coastal communities have grown accustomed to scraping their beaches clean of tons of pyrotechnic debris.

Until Florida gets serious about elevating safety over entertainment, all we can do, then, is urge would-be fireworks impresarios to follow basic safety rules — starting with the First Commandment that alcohol and pyrotechnics rarely mix well.  Remember that the sounds and flashing lights of fireworks can cause deep distress for war veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder as well as pets and babies who don’t understand what’s happening. Keep displays to reasonable hours — no later than 10 p.m. in most neighborhoods — and limit them to one night only.

But if they are interested in saving lives and money, fireworks fans would do far better to join in a local community celebration that features a professional fireworks display and the chance to share feelings of patriotism with a few hundred of their closest friends. Tempering freedom with responsibility is the best way to celebrate liberty.

The Orlando Sentinel Editorial Board consists of Opinion Editor Krys Fluker, Editor-in-Chief Julie Anderson and Viewpoints Editor Jay Reddick. Contact us at insight@orlandosentinel.com