The Saint Patrick’s Day Parade
Bill Flynn
If you’re an Irish American in New York you have some kind of a connection to the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. My earliest memories of the parade were house parties on parade day where corn beef and cabbage were featured. Mom, Dad, Uncle Tommy, Aunt Maime, Uncle Eddy and Aunt Betty were the Irish stronghold celebrating our heritage. All my cousins were involved at different times. We played Ruby Murrays’ album “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” and everybody watched the parade on WPIX TV waiting for County Waterford to pass by to see if we would recognize relatives. You knew who was marching and the Fennessey’s in particular were always well represented. We always marveled how American born broadcaster Jack McCarthy developed a brogue for the day.
I remember vaguely going to the parade with some one when I was very young but I remember much more vividly when I marched. You see when I was twelve years old I was a member of the St Simon Stock Sea Cadets. I proudly wore my navy uniform with its white gob hat and white leggings. I remember pestering my mother until she took me on the subway to somewhere in Manhattan to purchase the uniform. I had no idea what a hardship it must have been for her but I wanted what I wanted and that’s that. I felt so important. I went to meetings every week where Commander O’Shea and his wife were in charge. Mr. Mangum was the music director and he taught me how to play the drums. I played them all. The snare, tenor and base drum. They taught us how to march and they had a full time job keeping us behaved and organized.
I marched in the parade two times and it was at the largesse of one of the counties who followed the “give the kids a chance” dictum. We were irrefutably terrible and I am truly grateful to them for the opportunity and more importantly for not laughing at us. I loved it. We marched in a number of other parades but this was the big leagues. I was bigger than the other kids and played the base in this parade mainly because I could carry it the distance. Besides the drums, the other main instrument of the band was the glockenspiel.
The glockenspiel was played by the girls in the band and our big number was “The Wearing of the Green”. Commander O’Sheas’ red headed daughter was the lead of the girls and was oogled by the boys from afar but was unapproachable because she was an older woman, thirteen.
Later in life as an adult I would go to the parade with Linda and view it from the Central Park side of Fifth Ave. across the street from the Guggenhiem Museum. We would meet up with all our FBI friends and laugh and cheer at the unbelievable amount of people that we knew who were marching. When I was an officer in the FBI Emerald Society we would throw a party in the Seventh Regiment Armory on Park Ave. I remember Maryellen, Margaret and a contingent of family showing up one time and there was no room in the inn. The place was a zoo. As a matter of fact the parade had gotten a bad reputation at one time for drunken behavior. Mayor Ed Koch cleaned the parade up by getting the Catholic High Schools to stop giving the day off and by making copious arrests.
To this day, no matter where I am, I still celebrate St. Patrick’s Day by watching the “The Quiet Man” with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. If I can get my hands on some some blood pudding I also make us an Irish breakfast. I love St Patrick’s Day With all its’ fond memories and I hope this story has triggered some of yours. Let me leave you with an Irish toast, one of the thousands.
“May you live as long as you want and never want as long as you live”.
family memoirs blog 
Fond memories for sure. And yes, our parents were glued to the TV set waiting for County Waterford, or I guess, Cork in your father’s case. I remember them always wondering why the schools came first. A few years they marched too. One of those years, 1984 to be exact (and I’ll get to why I know it was that year) the Maguires drove our mothers down to the parade to watch, not march. At some point, nature called. The bars and restaurants were very strict about no one being allowed to use the bathroom unless they were paying customers. I believe they found a Chinese restaurant and popped a few to use the facilities. What constitutes a few is anyone’s guess, but when my mother arrived at my house as was planned, she was waving a shopping bag holding shoes she bought to match the dress she was wearing to Margaret and Bert’s wedding, two weeks off – that’s why I know the year. She was certainly in the spirit of the day. Your mother was in the car and seemed somewhat better but she made the decision not to get out. Smart move.
How come you only marched twice? As an Aquinite, I had to march every year, and I recall marching as a citizen at least one other year. The schools were lined up on the side streets of Fifth Avenue, somewhere in the 60s, I think. I know we marched to 95th or 96th where we disbanded. I have not-so-fond memories of marching at least twice through snow and slush. We were in full dress uniform which meant white berets, blue cape with one side pulled back over the shoulder to reveal a gold lining. Our shoes were these hideous white tie oxfords with a Cuban heel – a clunky brown heel of about 2 inches. At the end of the parade on those snowy days, the shoes were a mess and would take days to dry out.
P.S. The reason I went to Aquinas is because Ellen went there. She went there because Baba O’Brien went there. Margaret went there because I did. Could at least one of us think for ourselves??
Slainte, Billy
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Thanks Maryellen. Why 2X. I don’t remember LaSalle Academy marching. When I went to Manhattan College I was too busy being part of the problem that Ed Koch eventually solved.
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Great memories, Billy. I loved watching the parade on TV, loved it even more when we marched in it…at least most of the time. The Sparkill Dominicans at Aquinas had us trained like mail carriers….neither rain nor snow nor gloom of night kept us from marching and there was one year where we slogged through slush the entire way. Watching from home was a lot easier although we always worried that Waterford or Tipperary would come up Fifth Avenue during a commercial break. And I can still hear my mother muttering about Jack McCarthy….what an absolute phony he was with his “brogue for the day.”
Senior year was one of my best and worst. Best because I was one of the “Aquinas High School” banner carriers. There were probably eight of us across. Worst because at the end of the march, I got stuck with the banner. I’m sure Sr. Concepta would roll over in her grave to knowing the number of bars the banner visited at the end of the parade. Come to think of it, so would my mother.
I also vividly recall your uniform. Didn’t you wear spats of a sort? And, I also remember you practicing with your drum sticks on every flat surface you encountered.
Now, 60+ years later, I find myself in Florida in March (not complaining, mind you) but it’s disappointing that the NYC parade is not covered on TV.
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Margaret,
Thanks for your contribution.
Yep, I wore white spats and I was a drumming demon. My father made a practice pad and it went around the families for years. Looking forward to seeing you and Maryellen next week and we can have our mini St Patrick’s Day.
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March 17th 1981 was our first St. Paddys Day In ireland. And to say it was a bit of a let down is an under statement. But all sins were forgiven , a few weeks later . When we recived a surprise in the mail from Uncle Billy. To video tapes of the New York parade . The only problem was it took a few months to find someone who had a video player. I still have the tapes. And still have the same problem . Nothing to watch them on .
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Chris,
I have long since forgotten about the videos. No matter where you are in this country there is always some way to celebrate St Patrick’s Day. Here in Florida there are various dinners and dances and The Quiet Man is on Netflix. Thanks for your post. I’ll be thinking of you on the 17th. Love, Uncle Bill
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