Jul 4

Jul 4 July 4th Americana

Chicago, Demonstrations, Festivals, Parades, Performance, Musicians, Public Declarations, Things to Do in Chicago

Earlier this week, I received a text message from Stefaniia Sondei asking whether I would be interested in covering the Ukrainian Community’s entry in the annual Glenview Fourth of July parade. I thought, “That’s a long way to go for what is likely to be a relatively small group.” But these four-day weekends drive me nuts. Time stands still. No worthy films to see this weekend. The musical offerings around town are rather pedestrian. The weather is hot and humid. And Peaky Blinders is turning into a slow burn, so binging it isn’t appealing.

So at 9:30 AM today, I hopped in the car, making the 45-minute trek to Glenview, a suburb about a 45-minute drive to the northwest. On a positive note, the streets were empty and WXRT’s Saturday Morning Flashback was featuring music from 1976. I can only wonder why WXRT picked that year. Whatever the reason, I enjoyed the Tubes, among other long forgotten bands that hit their peaks during Gerald Ford’s presidency. Appropriately, the DJ opted for Proud to Be an American from the band’s catalogue.

Heading west on Harlem Avenue, I ran into a police squad car blocking the road shortly after I crossed into Glenview. Obviously, I had arrived, so taking the hint, I parked my car on a side street.

A bit cliche to say, but Glenview is a classic bedroom suburb. The village was incorporated in 1899, but did not take on its suburban vibe until after World War II, when developers repurposed farmland, using it for suburban tract housing. The homes are far more modest than those found overlooking the lake in Chicago’s northern suburbs. While the lawns in Glenview are neatly manicured, the landscaping is understated.

As a kid, I grew up in a similar suburb. What I remember most was the lack of shade on hot days. Aimlessly wandering the streets, trying somehow to escape the sun’s heat, which often meant a late afternoon ice cream cone at Baskin Robbins—watermelon ice being my cone of choice.

Walking west along the Harlem Avenue parade route to the parade’s staging area, I encountered groups of empty lawn chairs lining the street. Some enterprising neighbors also had erected canopies held aloft by white poles. But where were all the spectators?

In the staging area, members from marching bands milled about, including the Blue Stars Drum and Bugle Corps from LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Tween boys rode bikes, sometimes weaving between people who were walking in the street. Many participants stood lackadaisical behind banners, conversing with fellow marchers.

Members of Illinois Region Model A Restorers Club stood with their antique automobiles, waiting for the signal to fire up their engines. One thing is for sure: the members know how to restore a classic car. I saw no imperfections; just high gloss paint jobs.

The parade kicked off while I was at the far end of the staging area, which meant that I had to run in the still intolerable heat and humidity to reach the front. I never caught the parade’s first few units, deciding instead to walk against the flow, snapping images as I darted between parade units.

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but Harlem Avenue was now lined with people, particularly kids, some of who had covered their faces in red, white, and blue paint. I was surprised by the many people who were wearing today’s color scheme. As I walked the mile-long parade route terminating at the Richard E. Johns Park, I marveled at just how different today’s gathering was from the rallies and marches that I cover in Chicago’s downtown area.

Undoubtedly, the streets were lined with people on opposite ends of the political spectrum, but today, politics and issue advocacy were nowhere to be seen or heard. Everyone was more than happy to celebrate 250 years of American democracy, as imperfect as it might be. Yep, no signs of divisive politics; just a few local politicians who are parade perennials. Most show up not to push an agenda, but to make sure that the voters don’t forget their names.

While I had seen the Ukrainians in the staging area before the parade’s start, after 90 minutes I still hadn’t seen them march down the street. Had I missed them? Nope. The Ukrainians were slotted toward the back of the procession. The group was much larger than I had expected. While some in the group had received the memo telling them to dress in Ukraine’s signature yellow and blue colors, too many did not read that memo.

At least one visibly wounded Ukrainian war veteran joined his fellow Ukrainians for the march, illustrating the true cost of Russian strongman Vladimir Putin’s imperialism. Given Ukraine’s now unrelenting attacks deep inside of Russian territory, Mad Vlad looks weaker than ever. It is only a matter of time until the coup, which will be followed by a retreat.

I don’t know why, but those organizing parades these days apparently don’t like clowns. With the exception of the Hamburglar riding on the McDonald’s truck, there were no clowns unless you count a couple of people dressed in plastic inflatable shark costumes as clowns.

In addition to the traditional marching bands, one band played some classic rock, including Grand Funk Railroad’s Were an American Band. Another band opted for Dixieland music.

Hackney’s Restaurants sponsored my favorite brigade (sorry Ukrainians). I didn’t take notice until I was hit in the head with what I thought was a foam rubber brown brick wrapped in a plastic bag. Turns out it was one of what seemed like hundreds of rye breads being tossed from a truck. By the time I figured out that I had been hit by a loaf of bread, those lining the route had snatched up all the loafs.

As usual—going back to the Schlitz Circus Parades in the late Sixties—I also loved the penny-farthings, otherwise known as the bikes with the gigantic front wheel and a tiny real wheel. They could have ‘pulled’ a few donuts, but they were enjoyable nonetheless.

Hometown favorite, ABT Electronics, made sure that the kids went home with a souvenir. People aboard a large truck were tossing toy ABT rubber toy trucks to the kids lining the route. For my money, I preferred the those who were tossing candy to the kids (and adults), many of whom held collection bags. Halloween in July.

Not being a Glenview native, I was not impressed by the high school sports teams and little league groups marching in the parade, but I imagine those kids proved to be the day’s highlight for many proud parents. Clearly, I was not in the target group.

I do have one issue that the organizers should address next year. I saw no porta-potties along the route. Given that the route runs through suburban streets, my 71-year-old bladder could not look to a McDonald’s or a Starbucks for relief. Rule 1 in covering any event: always locate available bathrooms before doing anything else. Fortunately, Johns Park had an open bathroom, but it was located at the end of the route.

I was disappointed to learn that the organizers did not plan a community picnic in the park after parade wrapped. I would have enjoyed a plump brat or hot dog.

I did speak with one of the organizers who was standing in front of a small reviewing stand. I had estimated somewhere between 3,000 to 5,000 lined the parade route. He put the number at somewhere between 8,000 to 10,000.

Overall, I had a great time attending and covering the parade. Everyone was friendly and hospitable.

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It. The Images Are Not Necessarily in Exact Chronological Order]