'Tis The Season

Nope, I am not rushing things, as I am not talking about the Christmas season. Rather Spring starts the season when parades and street fairs in the city are in full swing.


I am not sure of this statement, but from all indications, this city must take the award for the most street celebrations held. It is no surprise when you look at the diverse makeup of the citizens of New York.


In just the last few weeks, we had two parades and one street fair 
on the east side of the island. Since the street fair is the least glamorous event, let me dispense with it quickly. For those few folks who live west of the Hudson River (known to a true New Yorker as "others"), a street fair is similar to county or State fairs in the outer territories. The main difference is the sheer size of a NY street fair. It is held on weekends and only on major thoroughfares. This enables a fair on Third Avenue to tie up traffic in the entire borough of Manhattan. A sight to behold as long as you have made no plans to be somewhere on time.


No matter where the fair is located, today's composition is the same.
Street vendors plying their trade and bands, jugglers, clowns, food of all types and huge crowds milling about. In the olden days, this was not the case as each neighborhood had a celebration that was unique to their neighborhood. The sights, sounds and smells are not to be believed. Also, not to be believed are the hordes of people lined up to purchase grilled meat sandwiches from (at best) dirty looking vendors. Not to worry, as they have licences dangling from their necks issued by the City of New York insuring patrons that the food is deemed safe for human consumption.


Moving on to parades, in this era of full disclosure I must tell you I have a conflict of interest. I once marched in a parade on Fifth Avenue and enjoyed the experience. It was back in the dark ages when every year the city celebrated Armed Forces Day, and believe it or not, I was a member of the Army Reserves. (That should tell you how desperate this country was when they had to draft people like me). It is a story for another time, but I was a member of the 353rd Civil Affairs & Military Government unit. A company whose sole mission was to govern a country the size of the USSR or China. How crazy is that?


In any case, the first parade of the season was the Israel Day parade. By no stretch of the imagination is this a traditional parade. It lacks basic components like marching bands, military units, and lots of people in uniform. Rather you will see groups of people strolling up Fifth Avenue, dancing in the street or simply talking to the thousands of spectators lining the parade route. It is similar to a family party; and it truly is just that. After the parade, the eating places are jammed with people munching away, laughing, singing and having the time of their lives.

For the past 54 years, the second Sunday in June is devoted to the Puerto Rican Day parade on Fifth Avenue. It draws hundreds of thousand spectators along the parade route. In the past, this parade tended to get out of control and one year culminated in attacks on visitors to Central Park. Others celebrants roamed the streets of the city causing great damage to property. This is no longer the case as Police presence has been beefed up and Central Park has been in a "lock down" state to prevent anyone from enjoying the park on this day.


Despite all this, the parade is something to behold. The floats are creative and plentiful. The music is varied and has a Latin beat that really gets the spectators moving. This parade (along with the one on St. Patrick's day) never seems to end. Long after the last marchers have completed the parade route, the roar of motorcycles with Puerto Rican flag fluttering behind can be heard roaring up and down the canyons of New York.


On to the granddaddy of all parades, The St. Patrick's Day Parade, drawing the most participants and spectators of all the parades in the city.  My memories of this event date back to the time I lived on 96th Street made famous for being the termination point of this event. those of us who lived on the block, referred to this as "Hell on Earth." The sound of bag pipes, drums and shouting people was non-ending. 


To make matters worse, the NYPD members (and those from outlying areas could be seen imbibing liquid refreshment from bottles covered by paper bags. Some could hardly stand up, but all rushed over to the colleens passing by sporting large buttons saying "Kiss me, I'm Irish."   


And, kiss them, they did!

Meanwhile the local drinking establishments were doing a land office business. The sound of music (?) poured out of countless doors and those standing (?) in line waiting to enter. Not that they needed to gain entrance to share in the liquid bounty. 


I am sure that there were some who enjoyed the parade and then returned to their homes to gather around the piano and enjoy a quiet evening at home.


There is another major parade that takes place on Thanksgiving Day. I am going to hold this in abeyance for another blog. The Macy's parade is now known to the world through television, but it is not the parade I knew. More about this later. 



I do want to leave you with the most bizarre event I have ever witnessed in a parade. There is a little known and sparsely attended parade dedicated to General (Baron) Von Stuben. He was a Prussian general who along with his men aided General Washington during the Revolutionary War. The German American Society obtained the rights to hold an annual parade in his honor.


Yorkville used to be a German enclave and the parade ended on 86th Street. A street that before gentrification was lined with German restaurants and stores. I was walking home one day as the parade was ending. I looked up and noticed the helmets that some of the marchers were wearing and realized that they were WWII vintage, and not American. I was stunned, when I saw that some of the spectators were crying. In the background the band was playing the German National Anthem composed by  Joseph Hayden. The current version was usurped by the Nazis with the addition of two stanzas that are no longer sung.

I don't speak German, so I can't say if the people I heard singing were in their minds reliving those days. I do know that prior to the declaration of war between Germany and the U.S., this area was the home of the German American Bund. In 1963, when we moved into the area, George Lincoln Rockwell, leader of the Nazi party in this country, was still active in Yorkville. As a matter of fact, on the day before we moved into our new apartment his group was holding a rally on the block.


That parade sent a shiver down my spine and still does till this very day.