By Morris Rote-Rosen
Snapshots of the Independence Day parade: The Main street clear of all traffic ... sidewalks crowded with spectators, local and visiting ... Children seated on the sidewalk curbs ... Sergeant Hugh C. Hughes of the U. S. Cavalry, home on furlough, making himself heard over the sound amplifier ... Announcing the program of the day ... At 10 o'clock, not a cloud in the sky ... The hot July sun beating down to make some folks uncomfortable ... World War I veterans, some roly-poly, others, gray-haired and a few bald headed ones, a contrast to the World War II veteran who is light of step and full of youthful vigor.
Mildred (Mrs. Lester E.) Roberts, walking alone, greeted by friends who are happy to see her improvement after a long illness ... Edward H. Porter, just returned from his winter's vacation and rest, looking physically fit, in his summer sport outfit ... And he was too feeble to be moved last fall ... C. F. McMaster admiring a group of babies in their carriages, one of whom is sharing her carriage wit her pet dog ... At 10:30 the voice over the amplifier announces: "The parade is on the way" ... Necks crane, children step out on to the pavement, every one looking to the west ... A distant drum beat is heard, the parade is approaching.
Joe Labate, smilingly hugging that little grandson of his ... Marguerite Scott, framed in the open window of her new insurance office, over the bank building, waves to friends below. (No charge for this plug Marguerite) ... Behind her, in the shadows of her office, is none other than her father Charles W. Barker ... The tall young woman, in blue shorts, a lollypop sticking out of her mouth, leaning against a lamp post, indifferent to all the anticipation of the crowd ... Kiddie cars, go-carts, tricycles, miniature bicycles, in evidence everywhere among the younger generation.
The drum beat is now louder and a bass note coming from a band horn is heard with it ... Necks are craned, children are lifted to their daddies' shoulder, every one edging over for a better view ... The courteous police detail of Chief Richard Stanton motions the people to stay on the sidewalk ... A lady driver, thinking that all the vacant parking space, restricted to others, was meant for her, looks indignant as she drives away talking to herself: "A fine town when you can't park your car on the street", she was heard to say, and she wondered why there are such holidays as Independence Day, celebrated on the 5th of July ... The police officer shrugs his shoulders and smiles at her.
Here they come! ... From the village square looking west, the tops of the flag masts appear over the Main street incline, near the railroad tracks ... Flags come into view, carried by army khaki clad and sailor whites ... A white speck, looming from the low level on the crossing, slowly comes in full view ... It's the white shako of Howard Licence the drum major ... The band, thirty strong, led by "Bill" Corey, is applauded along the line of march ... Behind the band is the official car driven by Evan R. Evans ... Besides him is Mayor M. L. (Ted) Brown in a VFW cap ... In the rear is Village Trustee Raymond Roberts wearing a Legion cap ... While Trustee "Bill" Thomas is content with his familiar slouch hat.
Everybody loves a parade because it is fun to watch one pass, but a strange silence grips the spectators as the first float passes ... "My Buddy" is inscribed on the side of the float representing the Veterans of Foreign Wars ... A grave with freshly covered gravel ... A helmet dangling from a white cross at the head of the grave ... Corporal Charles Winchell of the U.S. Marines, kneels, holding a rifle ... His head is bowed ... As veterans turn their heads, or lower them, the lump in the throat and the pull at the heart-strings is more than they can stand ... A veteran brings his hand to his eye and presses his tears to keep them from rolling down his cheek ... He bites his lips.
The parade passes in review, one float after another, all arranged in good taste, most of them representing historical and civic groups. It takes time and labor to originate ideas. And while cash prizes are an incentive, it is the spirit behind it that counts most, the spirit to observe a patriotic occasion and to do something that will be a credit to the community. It is America in action. To commemorate Independence Day, or some other patriotic holiday, is a tradition with us and anything for the best interests of our country is greatly appreciated by the rank and file of our citizens.
A. C. (Del) Cline found himself lost on the morning of the parade. And in Granville too. "Del" didn't know where to find the American Legion with which he was to march in the parade. Finding him in a daze we picked him up and offered to take him anywhere he wished to go. "Let's go down to the high school. Maybe the Legion is there", says "Del". We drove our car behind the Granville band when they made their first trip down Main street with "Del" in the back seat. People looked into the car to see the "dignitary" escorted by the band. "Del" never claimed to be a conquering hero but for once he rode like one - with the Granville band leading him.
When we stated two weeks ago that the fishing of Roy Finch might lower Lake St. Catherine we weren't too far off in our prediction. That week Charles Potter, assisted by Roy, landed a black bass which at that time weighed 6 and one half pounds, and no doubt, has gained weight and stature since then ... David Beecher came away with the 4th of July prize from Hartford. He won a heifer on a fifty cent ticked. "Dave" opened the door of his two-door sedan, tipped one of the seats and the heifer walked into it to be brought to Granville. "Dave" is quite proud of that.
That letter from Mr. Barlow, about the $3,000,000 rock-crushing plant erected in Riverside, California, might have been a local project, if the representatives of the Johns-Manville company had been successful, several years ago, in obtaining some of the slate rights in the Granville area. But, the company representatives received no encouragement, except from Hugh G. Williams, and the matter was dropped. It may have meant the different between a first-class business corporation, employing hundreds of men, and the few now employed in the slate industry. We missed the boat that time.
Is there anything that can so embitter one against his fellowman like racial and religious prejudice? That Granville man who refused to sign the nominating petition of Senator Benjamin Feinberg, "because he is a Jew" would no doubt receive a 100 percent Granville Jewish vote if he, as a Christian, chose to run for public office. Senator Feinberg, majority leader in the Republican party in New York State, needs no apologists for his fine public record and his service to the State. And yet, "because he is a Jew" there was one signer less on the petition. That one signature did not matter, but it is a violation of the principles of our constitution of which every qualified voter should be conscious.
The "Fishermen's Curse" - the motor boat - is operating with a vengeance on Lake St. Catherine this summer and unless fishermen get some protection from the Vermont Fish and Game Commission, fishing on Lake St. Catherine, within a few years, will be a rarity. Motor boat operators show no consideration for fishermen, or for fishing boats, and they not only kill the fishing by driving the fish from one end of the lake to another but are also threatening to capsize the fishing boats. This is an SOS call to the Hon. W. S. Preston, chairman of the Vermont Fish and Game Commission, from those who love Vermont and its fishing waters to give us some relief. What about it Mr. Preston?
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