Pink or blue? Some gender reveal parties can take dangerous turn

It was supposed to be a happy moment, a chance to declare the sex of a soon-tobe-born baby with a blast of color and burst of attention on social media.

But the gender reveal party explosion that killed an Iowa woman last weekend highlights the extreme lengths to which some families go to advertise on social media that they’re expecting a boy or a girl.

What are gender reveal parties?

Gender reveal parties have grown increasingly popular and elaborate, with smoke, confetti or colored treats to symbolize the soon-to-beborn child’s biological sex. But what began as a lighthearted, intimate gathering with family and close friends has morphed into a spectacle with guns, explosives and wild animals to maximize shock value — with sometimes dangerous consequences.

“There’s this huge pressure to publicize these once-private moments,” said Carly Gieseler, an associate professor at the City University of New York’s York College, who has studied the rise of gender-reveal parties. “You get that outside validation that what you did was unique, that it was extra special. It drives celebrations to the extreme because you’re trying to do the thing that no one’s done before.”

Gieseler said the number of gender reveal parties has risen over the last decade but speculated that the recent string of accidents could cause it to decline.

A string of accidents

The homemade explosive that killed 56-year-old Pamela Kreimeyer in Knoxville, Iowa, on Oct. 26 was just the latest example. The device was meant to spray colorful powder into the air but instead exploded like a pipe bomb. Kreimeyer, who was standing 45 feet away, died instantly when a piece of debris struck her head.

Two years ago, an off-duty Border Patrol agent accidentally started a 47,000-acre wildfire in southern Arizona when he shot a target filled with an explosive powder and blue coloring to signal that he was expecting a son. Agent Dennis Dickey was charged with a misdemeanor and sentenced to probation for triggering the fire, which caused more than $8 million in damage.

In Australia, a car that spewed blue smoke to announce the arrival of a boy burst into flames last year, forcing the driver and passengers to abandon it.

And in separate instances over the last two years, couples announced their child’s sex by putting items into the mouths of their pet alligators — a watermelon filled with blue Jell-O in Louisiana and a pink-powder-filled balloon in Florida.

The use of homemade explosives is particularly concerning to fire officials, who worry about one-upmanship and copycats.

“These explosives are very unpredictable,” said Ron Humphrey, a special agent in charge of the Iowa State Fire Marshal Division. “You can set 10 off and get 10 different results. If we can get any message across to people, it’s to tell them simply not to do it.”

Just one day after the deadly Knoxville explosion, authorities in nearby Waukee, Iowa, received multiple calls about a blast outside of town. No one was injured, but the shock wave from the commercially available “gender reveal kit” rattled homes as far as 2 miles away. Waukee Fire Department Captain Tomme Tysdal said one neighbor complained about broken windows.