Parades

Last night I watched a 1950’s movie about a small Iowa town’s high school baseball team winning the season’s championship game. To celebrate, a long line of vehicles, with horns blasting and occupants hooting and hollering, paraded through the center of town. The parade in the movie reminded me of the time Mom and I were forced to join a July 4th parade in Orange, Texas. It was scheduled to start at 10 o’clock in the morning at one end of town then pass thru an intersection near our house before turning onto McArthur Blvd, the main route of the parade.

Knowing the intersection would be blocked to ordinary traffic during the time of the parade, Mom and I, believing we had enough time to avoid the blockade, got in my 20 year old Buick Centurion and drove to a grocery store located on the corner of the intersection. We planned to quickly shop and return home before the parade started, but on reaching the intersection, we discovered the parade in progress! Mom and I were astounded that we had miscalculated the time. As we began to grasp the consequences of the situation, we assumed we would be watching the parade pass directly in front of the car for as long as the parade lasted since there was no way I could turn the car around and leave.

A policeman, monitoring the parade, held up his hand and stopped the flow of the parade. A marching band came to a halt but continued playing and the horses following the band began to prance in place. I thought the policeman was going to let me drive thru the intersection, but instead he motioned me to turn left and join the parade. I hesitated, but he again motioned me to get in line and I had to comply.

The idea of driving my old, battered up vehicle in a 4th of July parade was ridiculous enough but we had to endure the embarrassment the full length of the parade. All we could do was giggle. After a few moments, making the best of the situation, we actually got into the spirit of the day and waved to bystanders.