Sunday, May 29, 2011

a memorial day remembrance

The morning would start with a chance of rain, lots of humidity, and gray clouds looming large with billows of white and charcoal seemingly reaching down to Earth almost touching the ground. Flags of all shapes and sizes were placed in the yards, upon the eaves of homes and some would even be flying from the lower hanging branches of trees in the front of homes.

Grandma's would have their grand kids bundle up the lawn chairs, the ones used to protect newly shoveled parking spaces in the front of their homes in the winter, to now secure a space on the sidewalk facing the soon to be parade. Everyone had a piece of clothing with all three colors of the flag, or at least two of the three colors, and almost all the kids were able to wear their new sneakers purchased to celebrate the official kick off to summer. The ice cream truck would make an early run and his overly sugared chime would ring from his vehicle reminding us that this was not only a special day but the start of the season by which popsicles, creamsicles, dreamsicles and ice cream sandwiches could be purchased for a mere quarter.

We walked to the corner of Alyesboro and Shady Avenues passing members of the Jewish War Veterans, Knights of Columbus, Veterans of Foreign Wars, all happily walking to the sight of the Memorial Day Parade. Some Moms insisted on bringing umbrellas for fear the weather might turn bad, and some older women had their babushka's on along with galoshes just in case the deluge happened before returning home. The firetruck was on the corner and three firemen were at the ready to lead a tour of the truck permitting all kids and their Dad's to step upon the truck and inspect this red monster.

My Dad was the Sargent of police at Station 11 in Squirrel Hill. On a day like this he was the alpha dog and all the pomp and circumstance happening for the Memorial Day Parade in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood happened under his jurisdiction. On this day my Dad was king of the hill. And on this day all the kids living on Denniston Avenue, those friendly with the Buncher kids, were given special treatment. We were able to gather by the grandstand, given confetti, and could actually to speak to the Mayor and the Councilmen from our district. We were even able to get free popcorn!

We were living in America in the 1950's and this day taught us more about our history then anything we could have learned in school. We pledged allegiance, sang the Star Bangled Banner, listened to stories about the wars, heard the Taylor Allderdice High School Marching Band pump out America the Beautiful, saw ladies with bouffants ride in Chevy, Cadillac, Buick convertibles, watched the Steel Mill workers, the Fraternal Order of Police, the Iron and Brick Layers parade with pride, and were told in song and story why fighting, protecting, even dying for this country had purpose and meaning. There was a pride shared by those in attendance, for this nation and its heroes who helped to make us safe.

The parade probably lasted half an hour but for us it seems to go on longer, and the colors, music, and smells lingered in our minds for the entire day. It never rained on the Memorial Day Parade and many Grandma's would swear it was because they brought the umbrellas and babushkas warding off the bad weather. The kids from Denniston would play in front of the row houses, we would still be singing some of the patriotic songs from the parade, and we all felt a little more secure and safe.

My Mom, would make her fried chicken, grill hot dogs and hamburgers on the charcoal grill, and share her home made, apple, and cherry pies with the neighborhood. My Dad would arrive home after the parade in his police car with the siren blaring, letting all the kids inspect the police car. We would respectfully take down the flags, handling them as if they were holy shrines and talk about the best parts of that days events.

It was Memorial Day, and even in my mid life I can remember how special of a day it was.

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