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(Trent Nelson  |  The Salt Lake Tribune) The Cottonwood Fire burns above Beaver before sunrise on Friday, June 26, 2026.

(Trent Nelson | The Salt Lake Tribune) The Cottonwood Fire burns above Beaver before sunrise on Friday, June 26, 2026.

BEAVER — Imagine you are eating fresh watermelon and it’s a hot summer evening. The sun is creeping behind the Mineral Mountains. You and your friends pull out marshmallows and light a campfire. Fourth of July fireworks go off in the distance, the streamers that Mom put up are swaying gently in the breeze.

I used to experience this every July 4 in Beaver since we moved to my mom’s hometown from the East coast. It showed how great it was being a teen-ager in America and how festive everything was. I can vividly remember going hiking on Big John’s Flat the next morning with my youth group, looking at mountain goats climbing and jumping across little streams and waterfalls.

But this year, fires plagued Beaver all summer. The Cottonwood Fire started in June and burned more than 97,000 acres and may be one of the most destructive fires in Utah history. I was unable to experience any of my favorite traditions.

Many people started to lose their spark and hope when the fires first started and then later on, when the fire damage caused mass flooding and we needed aid. Everyone was scared and stayed inside. We cancelled our Fourth of July celebrations.

(Bethany Baker | The Salt Lake Tribune) Muddy water runs through Beaver River after heavy rain caused landslides in the burn scar of the Cottonwood Fire near Beaver on Thursday, Aug. 6, 2026.

We had no access to the mountains — no hiking or a chance to visit Big Tree, a 123-foot ponderosa in the Tushar Mountains that was destroyed by the fire. The marshmallows went stale. It seemed that many people forgot how to light that familiar campfire. What were we to do? I didn’t know at the time, but the answer is way more clear now.

I believe that as a small town in Utah we can recover and come back better than ever. That’s what America stands for after all. This year was America’s 250th birthday, but I missed all of that. This coming year I am excited to bounce back and make up for lost celebrations.

(Courtesy photo) Author Chloe Griffiths jumps into the air at a July 4 parade in Beaver, Utah, in 2023.

As somebody who hasn’t always lived in Utah, this has shown me that Utah is a place with a strong sense of community, and outstanding people who help each other with big and small things. For example, my town started a big community service day for everyone to participate in and clean up the land that is ruined or wrecked by the floods and fires. I, and what felt like a hundred others, all came together with work gloves, shovels, and trailers to clean Beaver up!

When hope seemed to be lost, it sparked back up again. This was the time that I realized that a community isn’t just about celebrations, but also the feeling of belonging and safety.

Utah is amazing! Beaver shows just how great a community is and how to relight a fire that seemed to be snuffed out. I believe that this is what America stands for as well, and that for the 251st anniversary, we will show that with our pride and attitude.

I know I have changed and become a more conservative person to prevent these grave disasters. The watermelon will be freshly cut again, the sunset will glisten orange and pink, and the marshmallows will be a perfect golden brown over the comforting flames of a fire. A fire that I didn’t know would ever be lit again until I fully met my community.

Note to readers • This contest was produced by The Salt Lake Tribune, Spy Hop and Amplify Utah. It was supported through a grant from the American Journalism Project.