When the parade passes by

My Lake Mohawk experience began in the summer of 1963 when my parents bought our home on East Shore Trail. The house was small but situated on a beautifully landscaped double lot that allowed for a circular drive in the front.

At 8 years old, I had my own wonderland, just like Alice. Four rose gardens and a hedge of forsythia bushes bordered the large flagstone patio in the backyard. A collection of mature trees graced the side yard, which led to a humble stream at the edge of our property.

The fruit-bearing cherry tree and a sprawling weeping willow grew companionably not far from the road but far enough away from His Majesty, the blue spruce, near the house.

We lived there for 10 years, and I reveled in the peaceful beauty of our lake community. Anything important to me was within walking distance. A left turn from the end of my driveway took me to Pioneer Beach. Turn to the right and it was an easy walk to White Deer Plaza or the library or even my junior high school. (Listen, my grandchildren! I did walk to school uphill both ways in the snow!)

Not really. I walked to school only on nice days in the fall and spring. And there was just one “hill” at the end of White Deer Plaza.

I left Sparta for college adventures and life in the Midwest after my high school graduation in 1973. But in recent years, I occasionally check the headlines of the Sparta Independent just to see if my memories match reality.

Of course, I know better. I don’t need author Thomas Wolfe to remind me you can’t go home again. But one day I could not ignore the memories this announcement produced:

“The Annual Sparta Township Fourth of July parade hosted by the Sparta Elks #2356 will begin at 11:00 a.m. on West Shore Trail. The parade will be followed by an awards ceremony in Dykstra Park with food and refreshments.”

The unforgettable Fourth of July celebration is as fresh in my mind now as it was in 1964, and I wonder if the some of the traditions continue today.

Back then, the parade was part of several activities throughout the week. All 12 beaches individually planned their own picnics, games and water sports for families and guests. The committees also selected a young lady to represent their beach in the Miss Lake Mohawk pageant. My sister represented Pioneer Beach that year, and our family was happy to see her win the Miss Lake Mohawk title as well as Miss Congeniality.

There was also a boardwalk “kiddie” parade of preschoolers and elementary children dressed in storybook costumes. Our competitive water-skiing team, the Ski Hawks, always gave a fabulous performance in the afternoon, and the evening fireworks set the standard for northern New Jersey. My anticipation increased with each event and I was not disappointed.

But to me, the highlight of the day was our hometown Fourth of July parade. Movies like “The Music Man,” “Hello Dolly” and “Stars and Stripes Forever” give us a tantalizing glimpse of a parade event. But to fully enjoy the experience, you have to be there in person.

The hometown parade was an unhurried event that belied months of preparation. Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts and Brownie Scouts practiced their marching skills for weeks. They were not alone.

The high school band spent hours in the football field getting line formations just right. They were joined by the majorettes, cheer teams and pom-pom squads.

Mixed in the lineup were 12 floats representing each of the 12 beaches. This was serious business. Beach committees went over the top to stay under the budget and still outshine the competition. Construction began almost a year in advance under great secrecy.

Our beach honored the Pioneer theme handsomely. My family enjoyed appearing in costume with the rest of our friends on the colorful float. Usually, a parade has a grand marshal. We had Miss Lake Mohawk and her court on their own special float.

The parade also included community groups. Local business clubs, society organizations, church groups, and political leaders all participated. Police, fire and rescue teams rode their fancy equipment and kept those sirens wailing periodically as they drove through the route at a snail’s pace.

Sometimes they even threw candy into the crowd. With or without candy, parade watchers gratefully clapped and cheered for the people who were responsible for the well-being of their town during a crisis.

Veterans of Foreign Wars marched to subdued applause and reverent murmurs of thanksgiving. Folks stood straight and children stood still, respectfully saluting the flag held high by an honor guard.

Children were quiet. Adults wept.

There are ticker tape parades and Thanksgiving Day parades in the big city. There are military parades and circus parades. But nothing equals the parade that passes by in your hometown.

I’m sure I represent many people who say “thank you” to the Lake Mohawk/Sparta community for keeping the tradition of the Fourth of July parade!