LJ Idol Week 1 Entry: "I Love A Parade"
Each year, in the beautiful and historic Clifton neighborhood of Louisville, Kentucky, a very festive parade is held to herald the arrival of spring and also to celebrate Easter. In April of 2001, I was in the city, and, in fact, in that neighborhood on Parade Day. I was spending the spring with my partner before moving there to be with her later that year. She lived in the heart of this afore-mentioned neighborhood.
On this fateful Saturday, she discovered there was a huge rummage and bake sale about five blocks from where her apartment was located. To get there and back, one must traverse a busy, main street called Frankfort Avenue. As it happens, this is also a most fine parade route, but of this fact, we were blissfully unaware when the day began.
My partner went alone, earlier that morning, when all was well on Frankfort Avenue and bought some bedding and a few other household items. These items were very fine and in good condition, but were a bit dingy from being out in the nice spring weather while waiting to be purchased. She also found a nice typing table on wheels. She was able to bring the table back with her. The other items we would pick up later. When later arrived at about 11:00 AM, which as it turns out is a most excellent hour for a parade to get underway, we took our trusty cart, which could hold agreat deal and still be pulled easily, and we headed off for the sale with our gallant guide dogs at our sides. Perhaps this is a good point for interjecting that we are both blind. It is rather important!
The trip down to the sale was a basically smooth one, although we did comment about why there were so many people gathered and gathering along both sides of Frankfort and why things seemed so crowded and hushed. We also noticed that the street itself was growing rather empty of traffic. It was beginning to prove difficult to maneuver down the sidewalk, but we persevered!
At the sale, we gathered our purchases together and then we perused the bake sale and made some yummy acquisitions. The woman working the sale said she could put all of our baked goods into a box. She explained that the inside of this box was very clean but the outside had some smears of dried frosting and other pastry-related ingredients on it. We said it would be more important to have a box than not, and we were more than happy with that plan. So, cart packed to overflowing, and with the rather seedy-looking box of baked goods perched precariously at the top of the heap, we began our infamous trek back to our apartment.
Yes, we did hear some parade types of band music and people lightly clapping. Yes, we also heard a lot of talking and noticed vehicles crawling down the street, much too slowly, but being very new to the neighborhood we did not know about this yearly, well-attended parade. It was virtually impossible, we discovered, to make any visible progress down the sidewalk because everywhere there were people standing and sitting on the low stone wall and seeming to be everywhere we wanted to be. Far too late to save us from our impending neighborhood debut, we discussed that this seemed very much like a large event of some kind like perhaps a parade? We decided that since we had no choice we would bravely forge ahead and try to get this over with as soon as humanly and caninely possible and get out of the mess.
Now, my guide dog, Bower is a most opportunistic fellow, and upon seeing he had two choices, one of which was fairly impassible and the other being a very wide street that was largely unoccupied, did the most intelligent thing a well-trained service animal could do to guide me safely and unimpeded. He chose a very level place at a driveway and then slightly angled into the street. Given the chaos of this moment, I did not notice the angle and was grateful that we seemed to have come upon a significant break in the crowd. My partner’s dog, also most excellently trained, knew when following seemed a most brilliant plan, and acted accordingly, leading her person and the hapless cartful of disparate objects into the lovely, unencumbered street.
As we walked along for a few steps I mentioned that maybe we had gotten to the end of the crowd and this was much better going. She agreed and our collective mood improved.
Suddenly we heard, off to our right, a child's excited voice squealing,
"Look Mommy, doggies in the parade!"
By the way, it's never a good idea to pray for a large hole to immediately open in the earth’s crust. It may happen, but probably not where you are standing. You will not only be responsible for the ruination of a beloved neighborhood parade, but also for the terrible destruction of something and somebody totally undeserving.
So realizing that the parade had essentially halted so that the Float for the Homeless Blind Women of Louisville Kentucky could wend its way down the avenue, we just kept moving forward and at the first opportunity got our dogs and ourselves and our calamitous cart back onto the sidewalk. We also tried to keep our heads very low, but we were nonetheless unforgettable.
For a while after that, we had no trouble getting help from the very attentive residents and business owners along Frankfort Avenue. When anyone saw us walking down the sidewalk they probably assumed we were eventually headed for the street and since there would be no parade to efficiently halt the steady, sometimes rapid flow of traffic, they wished to intervene before that happened.
We lived together in that neighborhood for twelve years, and I believe that time and many very successful parades, which we did not attend, dulled the impact of our very unique and public initiation into the community, Still, I would not recommend employing this strategy if you are blind, whether you are with or without dogs! There are much less noticeable if not more memorable ways to meet perspective neighbors.