There is a little child in us all
Deep down there is a little child in us all. I discovered that truth at the 4th of July parade in my small town in the northwest corner of Georgia called Cave Spring.
I taped the parade as we celebrated Independence Day and I had a friend standing with me at the time. I was thinking “Girl (about my sister friend), you are too loud.” But after viewing the video later that evening, I surmised that I was just as loud or even louder than she was.
All I am saying is, when it comes to parades the childlike qualities surface from deep down out of that secret place in us all. Hats off to Christa Jackson and the Cave Spring Parade Committee.
Coming through the parade lineup was everything that exists in a small town. The participants had everything on display except the kitchen sink, and on second thought that might have been in there and I just missed it. It was a very exciting parade for us all. I should say it was an all-inclusive parade. Onlookers could tell that we were country and loved it.
I saw my neighbor and his family passing by and I almost ran out into the street to speak to them. George and Judy spoke and pointed behind them, and I looked at the next Jeep and called out, “Which Bevels are you?” He answered, “I am Dan.” Before I could introduce myself, he said “I recognize you. You are Stephen’s mother.” And he pointed to let me know that some more Bevels were following.
My gaze fell on a beautiful young lady and I yelled out “Are you Emily?” She said yes. I was more excited than she, because I last saw her when she was a little girl visiting her grandparents. My 3-year-old greatgrand and I were out back painting a fence, and the grand was making noise unbelievable. She stepped through the wooded area and into the clearing to see where it was coming from. She spotted us and came to introduce herself: “I am Emily. Will it be okay for your grand to come out to play later?” A booming voice came from her side of the fence. He yelled, “Emily ! Emily!” and it rung across the neighborhood, probably reaching Miller’s Mountain. Emily turned and went back through the woods, and I never saw her again. So now I look at her, a beautiful bouquet, all grown and still charmingly beautiful in our hometown parade.
While I was out there in the street trying to get run down by a truck, or a wagon, or a tractor or some horses, Van was off in somebody else’s business. But she knew to stay out of the street. She and I had chosen to stand at the corner of Main and Love streets, in front of one of our outstanding restaurants. Where hometown cooking takes place. But Creekside was not open that early. We were in the middle of two groups who must have thought that we had never seen a parade before.
When Van saw Lady Liberty she went wild, and that caused her to miss one of the Uncle Sams. She screamed out, “Lady Liberty, Lady Liberty!! Come let us take a picture together.” Lady Liberty fought her way across the street and was being called by everybody on the sidewalk. She was very gracious and loving, and despite the heat and sweat on everyone she never wavered. She took a couple of selfies with Van and those in my section, and I got a fairly good shot of her. Every year she has represented the liberty and freedom we celebrate on that day. Her joyful spirit is contagious and it does not take much for my friend Van to get in high gear.
Many children were in the parade — on tractors, motor bikes, on foot, on trailers, on horseback and any other means of traveling that one can think of. I even saw an almost newborn with his/her leg dangling out of the truck. Next year he/she will probably be walking in the parade.
AACPA Connection had entered a convertible driven by my husband, Hardy, and Van and her sister Val were supposed to ride on it with the top back. That morning as we were decorating the car, a sleepy-eyed precious girl exited the house and quietly indicated that she wanted to ride in the car and throw out candy — which my husband had forgotten to purchase because he was so excited about driving the car representing the CONNECTION BLUES BAND. So, Van ended up on the sidewalk with me. At first she seemed disappointed, but it did not take her long to get back in good spirit.
We were fortunate enough to meet a grandmother whose granddaughter had been in the Cave Spring annual parade for 28 years, without missing a single one. We also met a member of the Costly family who moved across the Alabama line but still returns for the parade every year.
When we bade our newfound friends adieu and said we will see you here next year, same place and same time, the grandmother said “I am not sure that I will be here because I am getting old.”
I asked “How old are you?” and she said “I am 80.” I laughed out loud and said, “Oh yes, we will be here. I am 80, so we will both be here.”
What a wonderful day at the 4th of July parade in my hometown!