The centerpiece and reason for the trip Chris and I took to Savannah was the St. Patrick’s Day parade held on Friday, March 14. For some unknown reason, this particular parade in Savannah had become one of the biggest in America to celebrate the holiday, equalling, if not surpassing, the magnitude of the parades in Chicago and New York. Although, the winding, twisting streets made it difficult to maneuver many giant floats around the squares, it was still an excellent parade lasting over three hours.
While Becki had gotten up about 4:30am to head out around 5:00 and claim our spots on Calhoun square, Chris, Shannon, and I were able to sleep in a couple of hours longer and didn’t leave until about 8:15. Chris dropped off Shannon and me as close as he could get to the square and we carried the chairs and the heavy cooler of beer. Chris parked and met up with us.
Although I knew it would be huge and well-attended, I wasn’t quite prepared with the seriousness that everyone took in creating a complete party atmosphere. I pictured that everyone would gather around, standing in the sun, chugging alcohol, and watching the parade. In actuality, nearly all of the spectators in the square had set up tents or gazebos with huge spreads of food and amenities. Some had huge grills for cookouts. Those lucky enough (and early enough) to get spots on the outer borders of the square would have the best view of the parade.
The home of Chris’ former landlords, aka the loo
The crowds on Calhoun square
The parade itself started at 10:00am and it took about 20-30 minutes to weave its way to our square. It was a mixture of local participants and many who had traveled in from other parts of the globe to take place in the proceedings. Chris and I didn’t bring any food, but the temptation was too great to not eat any of the Irish delicacies that others had brought. And I had a home-brewed Bloody Mary courtesy of Chris’ friends Sandra and Charlie. The rest of the time we just drank beer, Chris’ Harp and my less-exotic Miller Lite. I also met Chris’ friends Krista and Sinisa and Bobby Z. I had a roadside front row seat, sitting up with Chris and his friend Jeanne and various other acquaintences.
9:00am and a spicy Bloody Mary
The spread under our gazebo
The most excitement came when the parade was stopped for a few minutes and a group of Shriners happened to be in front of us – playing Ali-Baba type music on the bass drum. For whatever reason, one of them came over to me and handed me the tambourine. I thought I might be able to keep it as a souvenir, but actually he wanted me to shake it to the rhythm of the music. I was hoping I could just do this from my chair, but I had to stand up before the crowd and shake it for a good twenty minutes. Actually it was about three, but it felt like twenty. As Chris said “it was the fattest man in the parade…and he chose you.”
I was tempted to jump into this parade car
Overview of our area
Mr. Tambourine man
Attracting Shriners like bees to honey
Chris and lots of men in kilts
After the parade ended at about 1:30pm, we all milled about for a few hours, using the bathroom at Mark and Cayce’s (remember we had our special privileges) and eating some lunchmeat sandwiches. Becki’s sister Ashleigh, who was visiting from Chicago and staying with Ryan and Becki, showed up at the end of the parade. After we got everyone together and had cleaned up our mess, at about 4:30 those who were still able to walk headed to Pinkie Masters, a local bar quite famous for its political and presidential visits. Pinkie himself is a friend of President Carter who has made several visits to the pub. As per usual, I enjoyed a White Russian.
A sad aftermath of the parade
White American, White Russian, Pinkie Masters
Becki, Jeanne, Jack, Jeanne’s aunt Maureen, and Shannon in the streets in front of Pinkie’s
It must be an earthquake! Jack and Shannon struggle to stand.
We stayed at Pinkie’s for a few hours, mostly hanging out in the street in front of the bar with our group of friends from the parade. The highlight was when Jeanne’s brother’s girlfriend Katie climbed into a U-Haul truck that was parked in front of the bar, prompting some of the others to do the same. I also quickly realized that I was getting old, less tolerant of raucous good times and too much alcohol. I was ready to head out and take a nap, but trooper that I was, I pressed on.
We decided to find a place to eat and walked a while until we arrived at Wild Wings. Here I quickly realized that if we were actually lucky enough to get served, we would be eating standing up amidst a mob of people and a room full of loud noise. I convinced Chris that we needed to head back to the car and find another place to eat. No matter how much my feet hurt at this point, my stomach was hungrier.
Despite warning that we would never find a place to eat in Savannah, just a few blocks away we found Saigon restaurant, which was nearly vacant at 9:00pm when we arrived. Chris and I enjoyed a nice, quiet dinner (I had an exotic lobster dish) all the while drunk passersby traipsed past the window. Becki, Ashleigh, and Shannon all arrived back at their place before Chris and I did. By that time Ryan – who was out of town in Florida – had arrived home. I took a few minutes to make an appearance, meeting Ryan and having a beer – and then collapsed on the couch.
Savannah will continue with our dark, last day…
This was really cool. As much as I had heard of the GREAT St. Patrick’s day gatherings in Savannah, I’d never seen pictures. Thanks for sharing. These pictures really gave me the feeling of how exciting the whole day is.
Bev
April 12th, 2008
It was really kind of creepy the way the Shriner came slowly dancing across the street with his eyes fixed on Brad. But he picked the right person. Had he chosen me, I doubt I would have gone out and danced with the tambourine. Especially for that long.
People going out in the street during the parade is not unheard of though. There’s a tradition that started with the Benedictine Military Boys Academy (for some reason referred to as “BC”) where girls and some older women put on tons of lipstick and run out and kiss the cheeks of practically anyone in uniform, whether they were marching with their military school, a pipe and drum core from Dublin or New York, or just some awkward teenager in a high school band. Even the girls.
Unfortunately Brad kept his lipstick in his purse and decided not to kiss any soldier boys.
Chris Tangeman
April 13th, 2008
It is amazing what liquid refreshment in a red plastic cup can make a fellow do when approached by a Shriner and a tambourine!
Bob
April 15th, 2008