Kelly had to work (yes, work!), so it was me and the bloggerette scrambling up route 143 at about 10:50, trying to get to Chesterfield's parade, which started at 10:30. To save time we eschewed the regular parking spaces strung out along the Main road into the center of town, and pulled right up to the parade's road block; risking a parking ticket for a look at some good old fashioned July 4th revelry.
I'd say the parade was about halfway through when we arrived.
For a town of about 1200 people, either everyone in town showed up for this, or the surrounding towns came flooding in; because spectatorship must have been in the multiple thousands, lined into the distance along the parade route.
I'll go with the latter reason, because I'm sure many out of towners came here with the same idea: A good, old fashioned hilltown parade and festival.
Nothing to big or flashy needed. Few if any giant floats. Just a lot of people turning out for a local community event on a glorious day for celebration.
Antique cars, some tractors, a few fire engines. Some livestock. Just the basics, please.
Alright, maybe some new local innovations in travel thrown in... can't stop progress, you know.
But certainly, some remembrance of why we've been able to celebrate this day oh, about 234 times now.
Sacrifices that were, are, and will be made.
As a nation, we've been lucky, to be sure. But it wasn't all luck.
The last elements of the parade rolled, marched, honked and clip-clopped past.
With hearty applause and cheers, the crowd began to break up and mill about; purveying the other holiday festivities Chesterfield had set up for the day.
It's always a good feeling to see simple traditions spanning the tests of time.
Speaking of which, it was time to walk my baby back home...
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