Week Fifteen:Old First Ward Parade
As many of you are already aware, St. Patrick’s Day is a roundly celebrated holiday here in Buffalo. Also, growing up in an Irish family and just two blocks from South Buffalo, the city’s most ethnically Irish neighborhood, it’s a day that has always held a special place in my heart. However, since I’ve never been a big drinker and I’m certainly not a very religious person, it was always just an excuse to stick my chest out, wear green and eat my mother’s delicious corned beef and cabbage. Don’t get me wrong - I do enjoy having a few pints Guinness with my friends and family in honor of the patron saint of the emerald isle, but I’m not about to drink myself into a stupor just because there is a cultural excuse to do so. Which brings me to this week’s new experience in Fifty-two to Thirty: attend the Old First Ward Parade.
The city of Buffalo actually has two St. Patrick’s Day parades. The downtown parade, the larger of the two, takes place on the Sunday closest to St. Patrick’s day and is tremendously popular among the party crowd, especially since it passes by Buffalo’s main bar district, Chippewa Street. I’ve only attended this parade a few times in my life and, caught up in the atmosphere, I’ve watched very little of the parade itself. However, I’ve never considered making this experience a tradition since I find that sort of public debauchery to be obnoxious and terribly annoying.
The other parade, meanwhile, is held in South Buffalo’s “Old First Ward,” a rather run down and industrial neighborhood originally inhabited by the city’s earliest Irish settlers in the late 19th and early 20th century. Taking place on Saturday of the same weekend, it’s a little smaller and much more friendly than its downtown counterpart. Although I’ve never actually attended this parade I always had the feeling that, as a proud Irishman, I had a responsibility to see what it was all about.
Similarly, on a recent St. Patrick’s Day, I went down to Chippewa with some friends. Quickly realizing it wasn’t any different than your average Saturday night in those terrible bars, I left to meet up with my brethren in South Buffalo to celebrate appropriately. Life is all about learning from your mistakes. Therefore, with a strong sense of Irish pride, I made a commitment to attend this year’s Old First Ward parade. Jackie agreed to join me on this adventure despite the fact that she’s not Irish, but I won’t hold that against her.
Navigating our way through the unfamiliar industrial wasteland of South Buffalo’s Old First Ward, Jackie and I parked the car and walked towards the parade. Although neither of us knew exactly where we were headed we just followed all the other people walking in the same direction. Seeing as there were dozens of them walking though this otherwise desolate stretch of factories dressed in varying absurd degrees of Irish regalia, this seemed like a safe assumption. Then, as we crossed a bridge spanning several lines of railroad tracks, Jackie and I emerged into a fun and lively atmosphere of bright colors, loud noises and smiling faces.
We s
ettled into our spot at the corner of Smith and Elk streets where the parade route takes a left turn through the intersection. Having just missed a team of horses, we made it in time for a festively decorated fire truck surrounded by marching firemen tossing candy, beads and various other trinkets into the crowd. This trend continued through the duration of the parade as similar marchers passed by, in and around the many ornamental floats. My personal favorites among these were the two Ironworkers floats (on
e a mini suspension bridge, the other an elevated I-beam straddled by assorted joyous drunkards), the party pontoon on wheels and the train caboose painted like the Irish flag. Of course this float had an unfair advantage as it was sponsored by my cousin Bobby’s law firm, Kantor and Godwin.
Next came one of my favorite features of St. Patrick’s Day – the Irish step dancers. These girls marched up the streets in their colorful dresses, each tailed by a mountain of bouncing curls as they pranced around the corner. There were several of these dance troops scattered throughout the length of the parade and I’m not sure what it is, but watching these girls perform always brings a smile to my face.
However, as all of the vibrant displays and cheerful marchers passed before us, I waited patiently for my absolute favorite part of St. Patrick’s Day. After what seemed like far too long, I finally heard
the marching drums that accompany the bagpipers – regally dressed and heading right towards us. I absolutely love the haunting tone of bagpipes and I had been looking forward to this performance for weeks. Despite my excitement, however, as they marched closer I couldn’t help but feel the urge to cry. Thankfully I was able to resist this urge and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Bagpipes seriously rule.
The parade lasted about an hour on an unseasonably warm and sunny Saturday afternoon. It was a very fun and family-friendly experience that was best summed up by the little girl standing in front of us when she said, “This should happen everyday!” In fact, Jackie and I had so much fun at the First Ward parade we decided to check out the downtown parade the following afternoon.
Unfortunately, as we stepped into that atmosphere my previous apprehension was quickly realized. Surrounded by hordes of belligerent, drunken meatheads and equally infuriating, half-naked skanks, I felt tense and uneasy at the probability of being toppled into or barfed on. Now at the risk of sounding self-righteous or uptight I will refrain from lecturing against these amateur-hour hijinks. However, I think I can safely say I’ve made my final trip to the downtown parade. Thankfully, I didn’t let this experience ruin my St. Patrick’s Day.
borhood pub (Potter’s Field) with a bunch of family and friends. The weekend was then capped off with a big family dinner of corned beef and cabbage at my parent’s house that was just as delicious as always. It’s not as popular as Christmas or Thanksgiving but St. Patrick’s Day is important to me in it’s own special way and I’m very happy that I now have another way to celebrate for years to come. Of course, I also like my friend Michael’s idea of swilling Jameson while throwing thrift store copies of James Joyce’s Ulysses at unsuspecting passersby. There’s always next year. Slainte!POP CULTURE UPDATE
Listening to: Kings of Leon - Only by the Night (Fourth album finally lives up to the hype)Reading: Redemption Song: The Ballad of Joe Strummer (This book is unbelievably dense)
Recently Watched: The Quiet Man (John Wayne classic. Very appropriate for the season)
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