3/17/25

INTERLUDE
A joyful parade reminds us of cherished traditions worth defending

OVER THE WEEKEND, my neighborhood was invaded by federal troops, State Police with K-9 units, sword-wielding militias, demonstrating university students, scores of local cops on the march and a truck loaded with rugby toughs.
     Taking all of this in was a crowd numbering in the thousands lining both sides of more than a mile of city streets, shouting and waving and hollering.
     The occasion was the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, an institution in Newport, R.I., with the march ending conveniently at the end of my street.
     For more than an hour, what might be symbols and mechanisms of oppression in an America now struggling to defend its democratic roots and commitment to the rule of law, instead helped celebrate one of this community’s most cherished traditions.
     The military units included a marching band from the nearby Newport naval base, along with a free-spirited National Guard groups, outfitted in camouflage uniforms, playing jazz and dancing and swaying as they played.
     The State Police K-9 units strolled the parade route, encouraging bystanders to pat the friendliest pooches. Firefighters rode on the back of their red trucks, holding on with one hand, and waving frantically with the other.
     The student “demonstration” broke out spontaneously at an approaching float sponsored by Salve Regina University, whose ocean-side campus was only a few blocks from the reviewing stand.
     The “militias” were traditional groups hearkening back to the country’s founding, with classic uniforms and "guns," plus a crew of bearded, grouchy and aging pirates.
     There were men in skirts. And a St. Patrick "cleric" more than willing to pose for selfies with his pastoral flock.

      Heading the line of march were the state’s top political leaders: Gov. Dan McKee, Atty. Gen. Peter Neronha, U.S. Rep. Gabe Amo and the state’s two U.S. Senators, Jack Reed and Sheldon Whitehouse.
     But you hardly would have known the big shots from the spectators and other marchers mingling at the end of the route as the parade broke up. The governor posed with some Cub Scouts; Senators Reed and Whitehouse – among their chamber’s leading members – chatted with folks in silly green hats and other “Irish” trappings who happened to wander by.

      It occurred to me that this was a rare moment in our national life.
     An hour or two to wave at the cops, and for the cops to wave back; to clap for the local high school bands; to smile at Shriners scooting around in their ridiculous mini-cars; to sing along with flat-bed trucks loaded with musicians belting out live music; to stare at the a guy on stilts and to say “Hello” to Elmo.
     If felt like a huge weight was lifted, if just for a moment.
     Gone was the oppressive, scary, cruel, monstrous assault by Donald Trump, determined to tear apart the United States by crippling its agencies and departments, thumbing his nose at the courts, reversing civil rights, setting one group of citizens against another, betraying foreign allies and getting chummy with the nation's enemies.
     Instead, hundreds of marchers and thousands of spectators gathered in a common purpose stretching back decades – honoring  the folklore and traditions of a once-oppressed immigrant group, determined that this edition of the parade would deliver the friendliest, excessively exuberant and  most exhilarating  edition ever.
     Don’t get me wrong.
     The St. Patrick’s Day parade did nothing to stop or slow the Trump onslaught.
     But it did provide a welcome interlude – a moment to cheer and to wave and to share the comic, friendly, silly and profound symbolism of a united community.
     It was a reminder of the kind of traditions that we may have taken for granted in America, but now find ourselves in an urgent life-and-death struggle to defend and preserve.