Independence Day 2011

The 4th of July was not so big a deal when I was a kid growing up.  You might think that living in Philadelphia, and then the Philly suburbs, that every year would be a cradle of independence fest, but for some odd reason it wasn’t like that at all, at least not in my town.  I honestly don’t remember any 4th of July parades – maybe because we didn’t really have a Main Street culture growing up in the late 60’s and 70’s.  Oh, I guess there were parades somewhere, I just don’t remember ever attending one.

So it wasn’t until 20 years ago, when I moved to New Jersey, that I discovered, in the home rule of the many small towns, that 4th of July parades really do exist.  In this part of Somerset County where we live, we are surrounded by small towns with Main Streets, local businesses, separate school systems, and of course, individual 4th of July parades and/or fireworks.  Our town’s parade normally marches along a route on a street directly behind our house, so each year we got up early, throw Will (and in later years Kate) in the wagon and pulled them up the street and around the corner to watch the parade.  There would be our neighbors, sitting in their lawn chairs lined up along the curb, and we would cheer and wave as the Mayor and Town Council marched and distributed little flags.  We would watch the local civic organizations: the Elks, the Optimists, with more beads, fans, candy and trinkets to hand out;  the Cub Scouts and the Girl Scouts; the winning boys and girls Little League baseball teams.  The high school marching band, the color guard, and the cheerleaders all performed.   Rescue squads and firetrucks from not only our town, but three surrounding towns, came screaming down the street with their sirens and airhorns at full blast, to signal the end of the parade and give the cue to all the spectators to pick up their chairs, take the kids and go on home, get the backyard ready, fire up the grill and turn up the music, for the Independence Day celebration had now begun!  Later in the evening, just around dusk, we would grab our chairs and wagons once more to walk down the street to watch the launching of the town’s fireworks from a field behind the elementary school.

However, life is change, and nothing ever stays the same – we can’t expect it to.  This year, the town changed the parade route, to instead start at the high school and march a different course through town.  Instead of our old familiar wagon, we had to pack our chairs in the back and climb in the car to drive over to the high school lot.  We got there early and found a good spot to set up, under a shady tree.  The parade was good but since we had to drive, our annual collection of neighbors was broken up and scattered across new viewing spots.  There was a juggler this year (on stilts)  and marching bagpipers, and the car enthusiasts presented a very nice display of vintage automobiles, but some of the civic groups and local businesses were missing – times are tough, for sure, but Will and Kate didn’t seem to notice.  They had a good time, as they always do, year after year.  How many more years will they get excited about the parade, about celebrating the 4th of July?  Kate has plenty of time, and I figure at least another 5 for Will, but then again he continues to surprise me with his sensitivity and the things he is passionate about.  I can only hope that they both look back, many years from now, and appreciate the time spent watching their town put on a public display to celebrate all that is good in what it has to offer, on the anniversary of our country’s independence.