We awoke early (for us) this morning. We wanted to shower, dress, and get to the bottom of our driveway in time to watch our small town parade in honor of our Nation’s Birthday. We’d missed the bicentennial mainly because we were new in Town and didn’t know about it until the make-shift band passed our house and woke us up. The bicentennial celebration was supposed to be a one-and only event, but it became a yearly birthday party where neighbors got together to celebrate.
We used to have all sorts of activities for everyone–skate board racing, pickle ball tournaments, sailboat and wind sail racing (lessons were given on the spot.) We combined activities with the neighboring town in things like a tug-o-war across a slough and a soft ball game between the two towns. This all started to gradually change due to development, risk and rising insurance costs.
But some things have remained constant and inviolable. At the beginning, our then mayor loved fireworks. (Minor has died now–of an inoperable brain tumor. He was the best mayor, imm, in the history of the Town, but I’m probably prejudiced.) The fireworks used to be set off on his dock–until the dock caught fire one year, and sank. Now they’re set off from a barge in the middle of the cove. When I was treasurer, I had to find a new pyrotechnic when that happened. Our usual pyrotechnician didn’t know how to swim.
We used to have the local Navy ceremonial band to entertain us during our family picnic on the ‘pasture,’ because we had a retired Admiral as a neighbor. Before then, the marching band was made up of anyone who had ever played in a high school marching band. We had drill teams–one early year, it was the weed-whacker team.
Sorry, this is rambling, isn’t it? Our neighborhood marching band is gone, our puppet show is gone, the Navy band is gone, ‘our pasture’ is gone (the owner was forced to sell because he couldn’t afford the property taxes on the house he’d grown up in. It’s now filled by a home.) The Town can no longer afford the risk insurance needed, so skate board, sailboat, and wind sail racing are gone. The kids who organized and participated in these things are all grown and gone. The tug-o-war slough has been drained for development. The Navy is gone, the Admiral is gone and, in many ways, the original spirit is gone.
But there are some things that, although changed, remain inviolate. There’s still the parade with all the kids–on bikes, scooters, big wheels, pulled by their dad’s or grandpa’s while they sit in their plastic wagons–waving and throwing candy to the kids who aren’t a part of the parade. There are still the antique cars which, according to the former president of the antique car club, just seem to come back every year without his reminder. There’s still hot dogs, pop, beer, snow cones, and strawberry shortcake at the end of the parade–clustered around the historic horse trough that is our Town fountain.
And, as I’m writing this, there are still the fireworks Minor loved exploding outside.
Happy Birthday, the United States of America!
PS, since this is a hotbed of conservatism, I wore the sweatshirt my former brother-in-law was given when he and my sister attended the 1993 Clinton/Gore inauguration–just because. No one noticed. Ah, well!