Patriotism Never Seemed Finer Than Yesterday

The Fourth of July for me has always been traditionally a day to relax, reflect & to go watch fireworks with friends, that is, until yesterday when I made a very small, yet patriotic gesture for my country. I took part in the Evanston (Illinois) Fourth of July Day Parade by choosing to march with fellow graduates from the Evanston Citizen Police Academy.

Now dear readers, let me assure you that when I say patriotic, I mean patriotic, as in say like, serving your country once in a while in the capacity of being part of a courtroom jury or volunteering time for various charities or helping your fellow neighbor without them asking for your help.

So, after considerable amounts of time deciding whether or not I would march, thankfully I made the right decision to do so. When I arrived at the spot where everyone was supposed to congregate at approximately 12:30 p.m., of course no one knew where the actual spot was, including several policemen who were also in the parade (figures, I thought).

Initially, I started to wonder around the area we were supposed to be meeting in, but no one seemed to know either, no were they very friendly, kind of like those typical suburbanites who must know who you really are before they can open up to you; from the looks of the ravaged faces, some looked like Chicago transplants that were hard-edged & over-protective of themselves. Or perhaps a few secret cop-wanna-bees.

Whatever the case, I kept hanging around until the proper authorities showed up with their official-looking badges, cars & supplies. I decided that for the Fourth of July, my patriotic garb would consist of white gym shoes & socks, blue shorts & a red Che’ Guerra shirt, plus my ever-familiar trademark fish hat. That however changed when I received & donned my official Evanston Citizens Police Academy blue tee shirt & one size fits all blue baseball cap. I looked almost normal.

So, in the mid-day sun, I wore two tee shirts, a lightweight backpack that was leaking somewhat from iced water & people thought I was crazy, but I was cool with it. Besides, from the clouds that were perched above us looking rather dark, gray & stormy, I’d say the chances were 100 to 1 that it wouldn’t be too hot wearing two shirts.

The parade itself was supposed to kick off at 2pm. Our group was in the 19th place in the parade line, so we were scheduled to begin marching slightly after 2 p.m., but the closer the time crept up, the further our step-off time was delayed. Officers nice enough to recognize us as a whole apologized profusely & assured us all that we would be moving shortly.


After 25 minutes of wrangling between parade officials and the uniformed cops, we were about to begin. There was one slight problem however; the rains came in! Almost everyone was advised to either find some shelter inside a cop car or the police van that traveled behind us in case any of the marchers became tired, I’m presuming. A few sprinkles & then it stopped.

Then came the announcement; it was time to move. I had a choice and prominent position within the group; I was one of three persons holding the group banner! Even though it seemed like a small deed, I was proud to be part of this; patriotism never seemed finer until this day…that is until the rains came back in and poured upon us exceedingly hard.

For the next two miles, walking, smiling, waving & every once in a while shouting to the massive crowds on the sidelines, “Happy Birthday USA,” to pump up the people didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. I felt more like Miss America walking across the stage accepting an award, than anything else & this was slightly embarrassing…

Whenever we passed by a reviewing stand, the banner would twist around and pasty smiles would be invoked. People behaved rather silly; I guess it was expected; everyone remained calm & relaxed, even though we were soaking wet to the bone.

It was a parade, after all.

We all smiled.

It was a great day indeed.