By Linda Ibbitson Hurd
Special to the Express
Nobody loved a parade and the Fourth of July more than our dad. For quite a few years the routine in our family was to spend the day and evening in Duxbury. First at the parade, then on to the beach and end the day at the bonfire that dad also loved.
The four of us kids would wake up on Fourth of July morning to dad loading the car while whistling “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” He always tucked a nice big watermelon in the trunk as well. Mom would be filling the cooler with our favorite sandwiches and always packed a big dish of potato salad. Lemon rinds were all over the counter from the lemonade she had made, and the container was filled to the brim.
My brother, two sisters and I would get dressed, wearing our bathing suits under our clothes and following mom’s orders to bring our beach jackets, which all matched including our brother’s, made out of white Terry cloth trimmed with red and each one had a hood.
By the time our little sister Barb was 5, she spent the time before we left for the parade running around our neighborhood to each house to make sure everyone was going and always talked one of us into going with her. Her last stop was at the Obillo’s to make sure Dan, who owned and ran the Barber Shop on Elm Street, was going to remember to bring the peanuts all the kids loved.
The parade didn’t disappoint. There were as many people sitting as there were standing along both sides of the street. Fences were donned in red, white and blue bunting with flags as far as the eye could see. We watched the band coming up behind the Drum majorettes while they played our National Anthem. I was 14 that summer in 1961 and as I joined in the singing, my emotions surprised me; I felt so proud of our Country.
The parade resumed with the usual protocol of town and state officials, police and fire vehicles with sirens on and military vehicles. Clowns walked amidst the festivities throwing candy out to all the kids. When a big eighteen-wheeler truck pulling a low-bed trailer that carried a jazz band passed through playing “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B,” the crowd cheered! Next came unicycle riders, baton twirlers, horses and riders, Girl and Boy Scouts and a baseball team. Our dad was Scottish, and when I heard bagpipes and saw a Scottish band, I knew it would bring a tear to his eye, it was one of the few things that did. When the antique cars and trucks finally appeared, dad was all excited. He knew the make, model and year of each, some bringing back memories which he would ask our neighbor Tom Brine and our mom if they remembered too. I liked all the antique vehicles and loved the sounds of all their different horns.
Once the parade was over, we headed for the beach. My brother Dave and sister Barb stayed on the bay side with some of our neighbors where the horseshoe crabs were and the water was warmer. My sister Penny and I stayed on the main beach. Our floats back then were inner tubes from car and truck tires that my dad and uncles saved for us kids to use when we went swimming. Penny and I rode the ocean waves with kids from our neighborhood and played in the surf. I had the bigger inner tube, which I promised Penny I’d let her have a turn using – at some point.
When we got hungry, us kids were sitting on blankets eating and watching our parents. They were in and out of the water, swimming, splashing, laughing and playing catch with a red rubber ball my dad had brought, which bopped our mom off the head at one point, making us all laugh. It was nice to see them all having fun.
After we ate, I picked up my inner tube heading for the water when Penny started harping on me to let her use it. I said “later” and went in the water. She complained to mom and the next thing I knew; dad was telling me to put the tube up near the blanket and come walk with him. Uh-oh, I thought, I’m in for it. As we walked along the beach he told me a story.
“You remember grandpa Straight and his greenhouses, don’t you?”
I nodded yes. (He was my great grandad; I missed him terribly)
“When I was a little older than you he asked me if I’d move some clay pots for him so he could get his flowers ready to sell and I told him I would. Instead, the day I was supposed to help him I took off with my friends and didn’t even call to tell him. I figured I’d just show up the next day. When I got there he was very stern with me stating, ‘you didn’t keep your word.’ I didn’t know what to say and then he said, ‘Your word is your contract, that’s one of the things I live by.’ From that day on, I realized how important it was to keep my word, no matter what the promise.”
I realized what dad was trying to teach me and as I grew up, it became one of the best things I was taught and something I’ve strived to do. I kept my promise to Penny when I got back.
After a day of sun, sand and surf, it was time to pack up and head for the Bonfire. It was quite the sight as we all sat around together watching the sun set and the fire light up the sky. Kate Smith’s voice could be heard on a nearby transistor radio singing, “God Bless America” and then John Philip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever” before it signed off for the day.
We rode home in the warm night followed by a full moon in the starlit sky. Dad usually smoked a pipe but every so often he enjoyed a good cigar and lit one up for the drive home. His after shave and cologne of choice was Old Spice, which had a nice scent, toning down the cigar smell. The ride home made me think of Norman Rockwell’s painting called, ‘Going and Coming’ of a family packed in their car on the way to a summer outing, happy and expectant with the father smoking a cigar and on their way home of the father looking exhausted while finishing off a cigar. Dad never looked tired going home, just very happy and content.