Welcome to Black Sheep, a spin‑off of my serialized memoir, SMIRK. If you’re looking for SMIRK, here’s the link to the complete book. Black Sheep is where I now follow similar themes of fraud and folly in other companies, industries, and individuals.
Most countries do not derive a sense of patriotism from explosions. Not so in the United States, where rockets and bombs factor prominently in our national anthem. On Independence Day, nothing shows love for 'Merica like blowing stuff up, especially in the Heartland.
That’s why the story of the collapse of AM Pyrotechnics, a fireworks show producer from my home state of Missouri, struck such a chord with me. While trolling the internet a few days ago, I came across an outpouring of woebegone local news coverage of the aftermath.
”Third Mid-Missouri fireworks show canceled following AM Pyrotechnics bankruptcy,” central Missouri-based station KRCG 13 reported on July 2, 2026. The article noted that a Mexico, Missouri, Lions Club chapter and “communities across the Lake of the Ozarks, including Osage Beach and Camdenton,” have been forced to cancel or postpone celebrations due to the company’s failure.
An article from Arkansas station 40/29 News focused on an annual celebration at the state’s Beaver Lake that had to be dropped at the last minute. Reporter Lakyra Banks noted that this year’s display was “expected to be the largest ever” in honor of “America’s 250th anniversary,” and that it was funded entirely by local donations. An organizer vented to the reporter: “We're just incredibly frustrated, more than a little angry.”
News articles further reported that the Arkansas attorney general had launched an investigation, and communities were considering lawsuits. Still, given that the company was under bankruptcy protection, refund prospects were dim. So it was a sad state of affairs. When I looked closer, though, I realized the story was even darker and more tragic than it first appeared. Here’s a quick recounting:
“Fell in Love With Fireworks”
First of all, let’s establish one key fact: AM Pyrotechnics was not just some faceless corporation that happened to go belly-up, leaving customers in the lurch. It had a face, a founder that community members undoubtedly felt they could relate to. His name is Aaron Mayfield. Judging by what I could find on the internet about him, fireworks weren’t just a business for Mayfield. They were a passion.
According to the website for “Sky Wars,” an invitational fireworks championship run by the Missouri Pyrotechnics Association (yes, all real things), Mayfield has been selling fireworks for almost 30 years and manufacturing them for nearly 20 years. His bio claims he “fell in love with fireworks as a toddler,” adding: “As he grew older, he literally saved his pennies to purchase fireworks that he choreographed by color on his bedroom floor before he shot them in the sky.”
The site also highlights that his wife, whom he met on eharmony, is a “leading female fireworks shell creator.” Intentionally or not, the bio leaves a distinct impression: AM Pyrotechnics is not just a fireworks seller; it is a family-run artisanal explosives maker.
As bizarre as this blend of danger and wholesomeness might sound, it is surprisingly on-brand for Missouri. While Americans in general adore setting off fireworks, regulatory restrictions for selling them to the general public vary across the country. Missouri, however, is in one of the more “permissive” categories.
How permissive? Well, here is an image of a fairly common type of establishment scattered across rural Missouri. Based on what you see, try to divine where my home state lies on the continuum between “safety first” and “try not to blow off too many of your fingers this year.”
Sorry. That was a bit of a trick question. As you see, the establishment pictured above is a combination fireworks emporium and gas station. When something goes wrong here, you’re going to lose a lot more than fingers. I think we can safely conclude that if there are any states where parents might routinely allow their toddlers to play with fireworks, this is certainly one of them.
The Darker Side to Blowing Stuff Up
Running a business, though, had its challenges for Mayfield. Fireworks revenue streams are lumpy and inconsistent, with the biggest chunk coming around the Fourth of July. Margins are thin. The company struggled to pay bills in the mid-2010s, running up substantial debts for inventory (while the company manufactured fireworks, it also ordered some from other producers), insurance costs, and payroll taxes. Swamped with debt, AM Pyrotechnics filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection (for the first time) in July 2014. The company managed to reorganize, but things only got worse. Much worse.
On July 3, 2018, a 28-year-old woman who worked for Mayfield, Samantha Dean-Wood, was visiting the company’s facility in southwestern Missouri (Google Maps image below) to prepare for an upcoming show. According to a local news report, Dean was alone in a warehouse that night when some unknown accident occurred, sparking an explosion.
According to the Kansas City Star, ten local fire departments responded to the blast, and the building was a “total loss.” Dean-Wood was taken to the hospital with third and fourth-degree burns covering 60% of her body. She held on for a week before passing away, leaving behind an 8-month-old son. In an interview with a local TV news station, her mother said she made the call to tell doctors “to stop and let her be at peace.”
The woman added, “I want somebody to blame. I want something to blame. But it was a pure accident.”
Local news reported that a GoFundMe account raised more than $11,000 to help cover hospital bills. The company was hit with $34,734 in OSHA penalties for “failing to protect employees from physical, chemical, fire, and explosion hazards” and the actual fatality incident.
But that wasn’t the last tragedy to befall AM Pyrotechnics.
A Disastrous Case of Deja Vu
Financial difficulties continued to plague AM Pyrotechnics and Mayfield, who piled up personal debts to help support his company’s operations. However hard he was working to make ends meet, though, he couldn’t overcome what happened the day before Thanksgiving in 2025. Once again, an employee was alone at the AM Pyrotechnics facility. Once again, there was an accident, and a building was blown to bits. And once again, an employee died. His name was Chad Eaves.
Based on news reports from that incident, it sounds like it took investigators at least a few days to identify his remains. Various agencies, including OSHA and the US ATF, launched investigations, but a Missouri Department of Public Safety spokesman told reporters the “extent of the fire and structural damage” made it impossible to determine what exactly happened. OSHA eventually assessed $27,238 in initial penalties.
A relative posted a heartfelt message about Eaves on social media after his death, mentioning that he was a 46-year-old father of three who had recently become a grandfather. “Please pray for them,” she urged. “May God give them comfort and clarity as they walk through this heartbreaking loss.”
When the Fireworks Faded
On Feb. 27, 2026, AM Pyrotechnics filed for Chapter 11 protection for the second time in a little over a decade. The case records note that Mayfield also filed for personal bankruptcy, that the company was facing outstanding legal claims from creditors, and that the troubles were “compounded by the death of an employee on its premises in late November 2025.” The docket references insurance difficulties for the company. A bankruptcy trustee attempted to convert the case to Chapter 7 (a liquidation). Mayfield objected, trying to hang on.
On June 1, 2026, the company’s lawyers proposed a reorganization plan:
Strategic Path Forward. The Debtor's strategy to emerge from Chapter 11 is to sell the business as well as land related to the business, owned by both the Debtor and Mr. Mayfield personally. For the sake of this Plan, and because no motion to sell has been filed yet in Mr. Mayfield’s individual bankruptcy case, the Debtor will assume that it will not recognize any benefits from the sale of land owned by Mr. Mayfield. To the extent that is incorrect, the funds will constitute a cushion to support feasibility and will likely push this to a plan paying 100% to general unsecured creditors.
In bankruptcy lawyer speak, this amounts to a description of wishful thinking.
The court has not yet issued a ruling. It stands to reason that before any determination is made, the judge will hear from at least some of the community organizers ghosted by the company on the eve of Independence Day festivities. That won’t look good for Mayfield.
In public statements, Mayfield apologized to disappointed would-be revelers, citing an inability to “secure qualified personnel” and ensure safety. He also claimed the company was still completing numerous shows as scheduled. AM Pyrotechnics’ website remains up, as Mayfield apparently clings to hope. But his labor of love, I suspect, will end in broken dreams.
Note: I will continue to monitor this case as it develops, and I may publish follow-up articles as I learn more. Stay tuned.
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