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Dazzling fireworks can have big drawbacks. But technology can help.

This article originally appeared on 07.05.18.


Some of us can't wait for the summer sun to go down so we can set off fireworks.

But for others, the loud sounds and bright lights can be a problem.

If you've ever been to a fireworks show, you know that they can be spectacular. They can also be really overwhelming, especially for those who live with anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Vince Bryant, a veteran living in Texas, told ABC News that the sounds of the fireworks are so much for him that he puts on headphones and locks himself in a closet when they start.

"It sends me right back to Iraq. Automatically it puts me in a situation like we fighting," Bryant said.

And those with PTSD aren't the only ones affected by bright, noisy light shows.

Cats and dogs are often terrified by what's going on. And fireworks are not particularly great for some environments — especially those susceptible to wildfires. Even when fire isn't an issue, environmental concerns remain. Fireworks contribute to pollution, and in some cases, the smog they create can last several days.

Once a spent firework has reached the ground, it can hurt in other ways. The residue that fireworks leave behind often ends up in lakes or rivers, and that can lead to health problems in humans.

Fortunately, technology has come a long way, and fireworks are only one way to celebrate summer holidays.

For one, fireworks distributors often sell silent fireworks. And communities are starting to celebrate with large-scale productions that aim to include everyone while keeping tensions, and pollutants, low.

At Travis Air Base in Northern California, traditional fireworks were replaced with 500 perfectly synchronized drones.

The drones fly in colorful formations without booms or whistles, allowing everyone to enjoy the beautiful light show without having to worry that a giant bomb is going off somewhere.

Other areas like Aspen, Colorado, where wildlife could be hurt by the fallout from fireworks, have ordered drone shows as an environmentally friendly display.

Here's what some of the drone shows look like:

And there's something even cooler on the horizon: Fireworks you can feel.

Disney (of course it's Disney) is working on fireworks displays that aren't just cool to look at but inclusive for all — including those without sight.

These fireworks allow those who are visually or hearing impaired to touch the magic without being burned (or even getting their shirts singed a little bit — something that will definitely happen if you, like me, chose to light six sparkers at once just to see what would happen).

In order to make the viewer feel the explosion, jets of water are shot onto the back of a flexible screen as light plays on the front. The person watching puts their hand on the screen and can enjoy the show in real time. Pretty cool, right?

Bottom line: A more inclusive fourth is awesome for everyone.

There's nothing exactly like the thrill of setting off a firework in the middle of the street and running as fast and far as you can before it goes off in a shower of sparks and shrieking whistles. But that's just not fun — or even doable — for everyone.

More options means more ways for friends, families, and loved ones to enjoy holiday light shows together. And after unlimited hot dogs and an entire day off, that's the best thing of all.

Family

Think seeing traumatic events doesn't faze first responders? Think again.

Stress can be deadly, even to the strongest individuals. That's why they're learning to talk about it.

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Starbucks Upstanders Season 2

"I'm good to go" is a phrase that Marines and first responders like Mike Washington are usually all too familiar with.

It's often the knee-jerk response to the call of duty, even if emotionally they're anything but "good."

"As firefighters, as law enforcement, as military, we try to play that tough image," explains Washington, a firefighter for the Seattle Fire Department. "And we wouldn’t share if we’re having a hard time dealing with something. We internalize it."

Mike Washington, Seattle firefighter. All photos provided by Starbucks.

Washington's been a firefighter for 29 years, and before that, he did four combat tours with the Marine Corps. He always sought a life of action, but what he didn't consider was how other people's traumas might affect him.

"Seeing that level of human tragedy, of a car accident or a shooting or a murder — it takes a toll," Washington says.

But it was losing his son in 2008 that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Washington and his son.

While at work, he learned his son, Marine Sgt. Michael T. Washington, had been killed in action in Afghanistan. Even though he was completely devastated, he didn't let anyone see him cry, not even at the funeral.

But this time, the strain of emotional suppression was too much to bear.

He began drinking heavily. He got into bar fights and fights with his colleagues. He'd even run through red lights on his motorcycle in hopes that someone would hit him and end his suffering.

Washington at his son's grave.

After several years of witnessing this distressing behavior, his veteran friends knew Washington needed help.

They organized a post-traumatic stress retreat to a place called Save a Warrior — a weeklong detox program designed to help veterans cope with their trauma.

Through counseling, he began to come to terms with the years of trauma he'd experienced and even uncover incidents he'd buried so deeply that he had no memory of them.

"You will see things that you can't un-see," Washington says. "We ignore it, but they're ticking time bombs. And if we don't learn ways to deal with that stress, to work with that stress, eventually it's all going to catch up to you."

Slowly but surely, Washington began to recover — and it didn't take long for him to realize the best way for him to continue healing was to help other first responders.

Washington with first responders in Critical Incident Stress Management.

So he joined the Seattle Fire Department’s Critical Incident Stress Management Team, a national effort to help first responders relieve their emotional stress by talking through it.

The goal of the program is to show first responders from day one that they don't have to keep it all inside. There are much better ways of coping that will keep you healthier and happier on the job.

That's why Washington is as candid as possible when describing his own trauma with those he is trying to help. "I don't want another firefighter to be in this situation where I was, and the way to do that was to just lay myself out and just say 'here it is,'" Washington explains.

And so far, Washington's support has helped several of his colleagues, including firefighter Denny Fenstermaker.

Fenstermaker had been a firefighter for 39 years, but in March 2014, he witnessed destruction and tragedy like he'd never seen before.

First responders on the scene of the Oso, Washington, mudslide.

Oso, Washington, a town near where Fenstermaker was fire chief, was devastated by a mudslide, so he led in a crew to rescue survivors. In the process, Fenstermaker wound up uncovering bodies of many people he knew, and the experience took a toll on him — to the point where he felt like he was losing his ability to lead.

Thankfully, Seattle’s Critical Incident Stress Management Team came on the scene, and Fenstermaker met Washington. They connected right away, and Fenstermaker started opening up to him.

"This is a guy that understands exactly where I'm at because he's already been there," Fenstermaker explains.

Washington talks to a veteran with two other firefighters.

Washington feels like he's a better person and firefighter because he's no longer keeping his traumas inside. His all around courage is helping so many others find their way again.

Trauma can affect anyone, no matter how strong they are. But talking about it is the first and most important step back from the edge.

Learn more about Washington's story here:

Upstanders: The Firefighters’ Rescue

This program is making mental health a priority for firefighters.

Posted by Upworthy on Thursday, November 16, 2017
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How an Army captain healed by falling in love with the beauty of the Middle East.

Trigger warning: talk of PTSD, addiction, and suicide.

Army Capt. Stacy Bare was afraid of becoming a statistic.

Back from Iraq, the word "veteran" worried him. It spoke to addiction. Joblessness. Hopelessness.

He was determined not to end up hooked on drugs or alcohol like so many others. But the heavy toll of war was real, and grit wasn't enough to get him through the tough transition of coming home and adjusting to civilian life.

He soon found his fears coming to fruition.

"That's when 'eight ball and wall' became a thing. I would snort the eight ball of cocaine then try and run through a wall," he says in a new documentary, "Adventure Not War." "That was a fun party trick for me."

Bare became suicidal. But a phone call from a former military friend changed everything.

"He asked me to put off killing myself for a week or two and come climb with him," he says.

Bare reluctantly agreed. And after his first time, it ignited a passion within him. It gave him a reason to live.

[rebelmouse-image 19494926 dam="1" original_size="418x248" caption="GIF via "Adventure Not War."" expand=1]GIF via "Adventure Not War."

Soon, Bare decided to return to Iraq so he could replace his memories there with something new — and to make some attempt at repairing the massive destruction he and his fellow soldiers had played a role in.

"I feel like I had a responsibility to go back and explore the places and people that maybe I had heard about or seen glimpses of," he says.

Along with two fellow veterans — Robin Brown and Matthew Griffin — and a film crew to document the journey, Bare set out to climb and ski the mountains of Iraq. Before hitting the slopes, though, the crew spent time in refugee camps, helping to give aid to children displaced by the war.

But it wasn't just the fresh mountain air that helped him heal. It was discovering a different side of the place that had haunted him, being welcomed and embraced by the people there, and finding a way to replace hatred with beauty.

This pilgrimage certainly doesn't erase what happened during the war in Iraq. But it shows that individual people can seek to not see a place as an enemy but something to be understood and appreciated.

You can watch Bare's amazing journey in the full short film below:

Heroes

The Earth’s coral reefs needed a savior. These retired veterans needed something to save.

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Force Blue is unlike any veteran rehabilitative program in the world. And it all started with a dive.

In 2015, Jim Ritterhoff noticed that his friend, former combat diver Rudy Reyes, wasn’t his usual self. After retiring from an intense career in the Marines, Rudy was struggling with depression and anxiety.

"He still looked like Rudy," Jim says. "But the light wasn't on."

Rudy and fellow veteran William Hinkson (left). All photos courtesy of Force Blue.

Jim asked Rudy to go with him to the Grand Caymans, where his friend Keith Sahm owned a recreational dive facility. Jim hoped that some time in the Caribbean would lift the veteran's spirits — but it ended up doing much more than that.

In just five days of diving in the Grand Caymans, Rudy was transformed. Though he was an experienced diver, this was his first foray into an underwater world that wasn’t dark or dangerous — it was a thriving biological community.

The fact that the ocean could have a rehabilitative effect on struggling veterans wasn't new. But what the three friends realized was that combat divers like Rudy also had something to offer the reef community — a unique set of skills that could be used to help preserve these coral communities.

The idea for Force Blue was born.  

The Force Blue divers are bound by their shared mission — to help preserve and protect the Earth's coral communities.

Force Blue is a trailblazing effort to harness the power of nature and use it to benefit both humans and the environment.

It’s a brand-new type of post-military program that would help former combat divers cope with their PTSD by refocusing their skills toward the mission of marine conservation.

We often assume that PTSD must come from a trauma of some sort, but for many veterans, that isn't the case. After having spent years — decades, in some cases — driven relentlessly by conviction, passion, and purpose, the sudden aimlessness of civilian life can be too much for some veterans to handle. This jarring transition alone can be enough to bring on debilitating cases of post-traumatic stress.

That’s where Force Blue comes in.

Force Blue's first team consists of seven highly trained combat veterans who have refocused their skills on their new mission: marine conservation.

"We don’t consider ourselves a dive therapy program. We consider ourselves a mission therapy program," Jim says.

Force Blue doesn't just keep veterans active — it gets them redeployed and back in service of a purpose far greater than themselves: restoring the coral reefs that are in danger of being depleted.

According to the Ocean Conservancy, coral reefs are suffering due to increasing ocean temperatures and acidification levels. But reefs are incredibly valuable — they house about 25% of marine species and, economically, generate nearly $10 billion in tourist revenue each year — so it's important that they have a protector.

Force Blue has found the veterans for the job. "We’re taking the most highly trained divers in the world, and all we’re doing is retraining them for a different mission — a positive mission, which is to help the planet in some respect."

And marine conservation is the perfect effort for veterans to redirect their sense of conviction.

"Coral reefs are a community. And that community is under threat," Jim says. "All these guys have ever done throughout their careers is protect communities." Once Force Blue's marine scientists get the divers briefed on the threat to coral communities, the veterans' protective instinct is automatic.

Team One learned from some of the world's leading marine scientists before deploying to their first mission in the Caymans.

So far, Force Blue has one team fully trained and is getting ready to add more teams soon.

Their cause has proven to appeal to people across all spectrums, breaking down barriers of difference not just between scientists and special operatives, but also between people of differing political beliefs.

Whether you care about veterans issues, the environment, or both, Jim says, "Guess what? We're all in the same boat."

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