53 Bunker Hill Parades... and Counting

Celebrating Bunker Hill Day has changed so much for me over the years. When I was little, we would watch at the end of Eden Street under the El. Mind you, when we did anything when we were kids it involved a cast of what seemed like thousands. My mother was one of 13, and every one of my aunts and uncles had at least six kids. Imagine, we were all poor as church mice and yet we all managed to have red, white and blue outfits from head to toe!

My Ma, who could sew like the wind, would make our outfits. I love the pretty dresses she made me and it was so much fun to go shopping in Chinatown for the material. Fabric stores are still my idea of heaven! No wonder I still have a love of getting all dressed up. She was always “whipping something up” as she would say.

I was thinking this morning about all the Bunker Hill Day parades I have seen. Fifty-three to be exact. I have only missed one, in 1978, and I was in labor with Jess so I had a good excuse. She didn’t come that day -- she waited until June 30. And she was worth the wait!

Back then, the parade was held on the actual Bunker Hill Day, June 17th. My Ma would make all kinds of sandwiches and potato salad and we could get free Hoodsies at the Fire Station at the corner. Wow, were they delicious. The fire station has been closed for years.

I don’t remember the parades too much, I know they seemed like they lasted forever. Anyhow, the day would go by and it was big fun. When you remember back to a childhood, it pays to remember the good. I came from a very large Irish family so I know that there was some drinking and arguing going on, but I learned early to stay clear of all that. Being the youngest of six in a big crazy Irish family, you learn coping skills early. Now, I just remember laughing and playing with all my cousins. Probably better that way. The secret to happiness is good health and a bad memory, right?

Teenage parades? Ridiculous. I and my friends acted like idiots and I prefer not to mention those years. Nor am I going to delve into my unfortunate marriage. That’s over. I lived through those years as a young mother in tough circumstances.

I choose to remember all the laughter and love with Bobby, Little Di, Jess, Zack and my sister Gerri. All the kids from the neighborhood that still call me Mama Di. We all lived together and we got through it. Lots of faith, and a little time, lot of laughing, and things got better again. They always do. I just don’t remember those parades. Just a lovely blur. Again, the theme here is a bad memory.

Now, I am still a very proud Townie. Those wonderful kids are grown. Grandkids are here! (Imagine?). I have made new friends with some wonderful people who appreciate Charlestown and what a close community we are. Doesn’t matter that they just moved here, they get it. The sense of pride and community in Charlestown is incredible, rivaled by none.

I walk with my dog Sophia Loren every day and I still laugh a lot and love a lot. I am blessed with the most wonderful job.

But, most of all, I am blessed to live in a town where I love so many people. When I watch the parade in front of my house on Sunday, with my wonderful family and friends, I will know that Charlestown is truly a wonderful place to live.

Now, I can relax and enjoy the parade and appreciate the moment in time. Ahhh, the perks of getting older. Happy Bunker Hill Day! See you Main Street.