Fireworks on July Fourth

When Americans think of July Fourth, they typically think of grill-outs, family-time, and fireworks.
When I think of July Fourth, though, I think of how my area begins to sound like the bombings in all those war movies. And then I wonder....
How do those with PTSD cope on the holiday?
America may celebrate independence on July Fourth, but it's an independence we fought hard and long for. It's also an independence we continue to fight for. And the fight, for many of those who have fought, can become a life-long nightmare brought back with every low-flying plane, every back-firing car, every loud noise, sudden light and sudden movement. And not much gets louder than some of those fireworks that explode and break open the sky above my house as their companions boom into the distance.
The other day I walked into a used book-store after my doctor's appointment. I only dropped in to see how the lady who owned it was doing, as the first time I walked in she ended up giving me part of her life's story.
I learned that her sons went into the military, one having done a few tours in Iraq. He came home with severe PTSD.
She told me how they were one day walking in the woods behind her home, before she lost it, when an airplane flew over and he dove for cover. She asked, "What's wrong with you?" as she didn't yet understand the full impact the war had done to him.
He calmed down enough to tell her that he thought he was going to be killed in a bombing.
She went on to tell me what else sets him off.
It wasn't the first time I had wondered how those who have experienced war handle July Fourth, but it was another reminder (my mom also has PTSD as both her parents took a gun to themselves). With me, fireworks makes me jump as my father was a very angry person, myself being the one to take it out on.
I myself typically head to the basement to try and hide from the ear-splitting booms as the night sky lights up till past 3 AM. It's like that for three evenings here-- the night before, of, and after this holiday.
But what do our veterans do when the bombing starts back up in their minds and they replay their comrades' deaths before their eyes once more with every blast from an M-80 or other explosive? How much fear rushes through them and pushes them over the edge? How much pain and terror do those who use fireworks inadvertently cause?
As such, I've restricted myself to small fountains and whistling fireworks that don't shoot anything above 12 feet. This year I'm actually doing none.
But last night I watched rockets explode over my house and comforted my dog as she panted and panicked. And then I wrote this.
Tonight my other dog, who also has PTSD, will lose it and several times attack our other dog in his panic. I may or may not end up injured again breaking up the ensuing fight that happens every year, as he also ends up hurting himself in his cage.
So why do we still use fireworks? The only work they do is work against those who fought for us, and against (in some way) many of our citizens.