It was the Fourth of July, 2005 (I found the year stamped on the back). Look at those smiling faces… we were ecstatic, and for good reason – it was the first time we got to ride in the parade. It was a real important event in that town…not like here, where some go and some don’t. Less than 7,000 people lived north of the Long Bridge, and I can assure you that every soul that possibly could walked/biked/drove downtown and scattered themselves somewhere along that parade route (our favourite place was the grassy area in front of the library). Even our friends who lived half an hour out of town came, and there were 12 of them.
As I said, it was our first year to participate. Our school had organised something – as an eight year old I wasn’t paying much attention to what. Our class piled into the back of Danny’s truck… we must have started somewhere near City Beach…and he drove that joyful, squirming, noisy bunch of first graders right through the centre of town for all to see. The specifics are fuzzy, but I can tell you we were on top of the world.