BY ARCHER PARQUETTE AND PEARL NEMECEK
Every July for over two decades (with two years off for the pandemic), Andrew Ilecki has brought his living room to the lake. He and his family haul two couches, a recliner, a bench, a television and more for their annual Juneau Park campout in anticipation of the Lakefront Fireworks show. The Ileckis even hang a clock and some lights from a nearby tree.
The Ilecki crew is one of many who have made staking out a spot in Juneau and Veterans parks an annual tradition (although they’re a little more elaborate with the furnishings than most). The evening before the show, many folks camp out. Some years, the Sheriff’s Office even relaxes the ban on overnight camping for the occasion. (As for this year, we can’t make any promises. … They didn’t get back to us by press time.)
Ray Krukowski and his family have been Juneau regulars for 37 years. “Now we live in Arizona, but we come back to Milwaukee every July to do this,” Krukowski says.
Ilecki and his squad opt not to set up the night before, so getting an early start the day of the show is key. “We bring our furniture out here at like 9 or 10 in the morning,” says Ilecki. There’s a strategy at play – the shady spots go quick, as do ones with unobstructed views.
Architects, interior designers, renovators and landscapers: Submit your best work for consideration!
“It’s a competitive spot. If we don’t get here first, someone else will,” says James Kopps, who first celebrated the Fourth in Juneau Park when his parents brought him there as a baby. Now, he’s going on his 37th year. Kopps and his squadron sometimes reserve their space by surrounding it with yellow caution tape wrapped around stakes driven into the dirt. It’s sort of like a crime scene, but instead of a weapon, there are just a lot of Tostitos.
The occasion always turns into a party, with music blasting, yard games, shirtless fellas cheering and the aroma of grilled brats in the air. It’s the type of event that breeds camaraderie and local pride. When the crowd swells to its peak, this pop-up community is big enough to take on a small town (watch out, Bayfield!).
After the sun sets, everyone settles into their lawn chairs (or, in the Ileckis’ case, their sofas) and enjoys the show from a primo perch. The last firework signals a frenzy to break camp and head home, until next year.
