Annual Portsmouth parade goes off without hitch

PORTSMOUTH

One woman loves a parade best when it’s over.

That’s when the sweat starts to dry on Debra White’s brow and the tall glass of iced tea she been dreaming about all morning is almost within reach.

That’s when a year’s worth of planning has come to life and marched on down the street, and the weight of a tradition reaching back to 1884 has been upheld.

“I’ve only been in charge for about 100 of those years,” White jokes.

Actually, it’s been about six years since White, Portsmouth’s city clerk, volunteered to take charge of what’s thought to be oldest continuously held Memorial Day parade in the nation.

“We have the records to back it up,” she says proudly. “And no one has ever challenged it.”

On Monday morning, the 127th year of the parade, White became “the crazy lady on the golf cart” – the one person in the parking lot of I.C. Norcom High School who knew exactly where each of the 65 floats and fire trucks, bands and beauty queens should be in the staging area, and when they should “step off” in the procession.

It only looks easy from the curb. “They have to be far enough apart, but not too far,” White said. “And you’ve got to mix it up – like, you wouldn’t want all the scout troops together. And the bands. You try to keep them apart so they won’t drown each other out.”

And then there are the horses, which always go last because – well – “You can figure that out,” White says. “And you’ll notice the street sweepers are right behind them.”

But most important, there are the veterans, who must come near the front of the parade because, after all, they’re representing those who fought and died – the reason for this holiday in the first place.

“We do this in perpetual memory of our shipmates,” says Craig Dudley before hoisting a flag on behalf of the U.S. Submarine Veterans of World War II. “Fifty-two subs, 3,500 men – on eternal patrol.”

The sun sizzles off the pavement behind the high school. Girls in tiaras fan their makeup. Shriners in fezzes and funny cars wipe towels across their faces. Bagpipers in kilts are grateful for bare legs.

By the way, what do they wear under those kilts anyway?

“Shoes,” says one bagpiper, preserving the old mystery with a grin.

Toward the end of the procession, 8-year-old Darrell Vines twirls his drumsticks. Nerves more than heat are the cause of his clammy palms. He’s been playing in the Mount Carmel Baptist Church Ambassador Band for four years already, but he’s still the littlest drummer boy around.

“I get scared people will laugh at me,” Darrell says.

White stands on the edge of the parking lot, watching as the last of the motorcycles and majorettes moves out of the staging area and into the bosom of the cheering crowd. “Now,” she says tiredly, “is when I love this.” Joanne Kimberlin, (757) 446-2338, joanne.kimberlin@pilotonline.com