Day 33 #100DaysOfOldDays

The first St Patrick’s Day parade didn’t take place in Ireland as you’d imagine. The first ever parade was held in a Spanish colony in Florida in 1601 organised by the colony’s Irish Vicar, Ricardo Artur.

In 1737 Irish soldiers serving in the English army, who yearned for home, marched in Boston on St Patrick’s day and again in New York City in 1762. And so it began.

Some parades are flamboyant and impressive, where people go to extremes to put on an entertaining show for their spectators, especially in big towns and cities.

That doesn’t mean the small towns don’t put on good parades. I have fond memories of the parades from years ago.

I remember the parade in Kingscourt (our neighbouring town) in 1978, and the memory is not a fond one. I was playing the tin whistle in the Bailieborough Marching Youth Band. It was snowing and freezing! Our skirts were just above the knee and we wore knee high socks. Coats were not part of our uniform, but on that particular day we did wear coats—otherwise we’d have frozen to death.

My fingers were numb against the cold steel of the tin whistle. The parade hadn’t even started. We were lining up and practicing at that stage. My piano accordion was in the car and my dad gave it to me thinking it might be easier to play with blue fingers than the whistle. It was a little easier, but not much. That was the worst skinning I ever got.

The parades were always great fun, even in our small little towns. Everyone made a huge effort to get out and enjoy themselves. What was different then?

The big thing that’s missing from our parades are the marching bands. They were the essence of the parades. There are very few marching bands left in Ireland. A terrible shame.

Another thing that was very popular in parades was the fancy dress. Not completely gone, but not as many people take part these days. My mother and a couple of her friends were experts at dressing up for the parades. Not just on St Patrick’s Day, but for the festivals too.

As a young teenager, I used to be sooooo embarrassed! But as I matured a bit, I saw the fun in it. I’ve been known to take part in fancy dress myself on occasion.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Thanks to local photographer, Kevin Gorman, for this photo of my mam and her late friend, Shirley.

My mam sent me these photos. She said, “There’s no craic like that any more!”

In this next photo, they were dressed up for the pram race which used to happen every year at the festival!

Yes, those were the days!

Lucy didn’t draw a picture today, instead she made this mask to represent fancy dress.