I will be riding in the Free Press Mobile at the La Grange Christmas Parade this Sunday at 3 p.m. Joining me will be Managing Editor Bryan Hanks and Tax Deduction #2. I'm hoping the presence of my 3-year-old will convince Miss La Grange 1996 Paulette Burroughs to abstain from her traditional display of profane semaphore.
Being ill at ease with crowds, loud noises and pretty much anything located beyond my driveway means I'm not really a parade guy. So why am I participating? Because Bryan Hanks is a parade guy and could talk an Eskimo into vacationing in Iceland.
The first La Grange Christmas Parade was held in 1775, although it wasn't well attended until people started settling in the area two years later. After incorporating as a town in 1869 the parade became a treasured annual event. The first parades were modest affairs, consisting mainly of horse drawn carriages sponsored by local businesses. Sugar was tough to come by in those days, so instead of throwing candy to the onlookers participants threw apples, snuff and sometimes roofing nails to the joyous and eventually wounded crowds.
In his book "The History of La Grange", author Nicholas Colasanto said some of the more successful farmers would throw livestock to the crowd.
"In the Christmas parade of 1883, Aldous Sutton drove a horse and buggy while his sons threw live chickens and ducks to the adoring spectators," Colasanto wrote. "Every so often someone would be looking the other way and get clocked in the head with a duck. These periodic duck-induced concussions are believed to be the genesis of the term "duck", i.e. "lower your head so you won't be decapitated by a duck."
Since its humble beginnings the La Grange Christmas Parade has evolved with the times. With the advent of the disposable tissue in 1924, the first parade floats began appearing.
"Daddy had a good business with the hardware store in La Grange but he was still frugal," said Chester Isler, 89, of Little Baltimore. "He wanted to have a float in the Christmas parade but didn't want to sink any money into it. All during the year if anybody in the family used a Kleenex, he made them throw it in a big burlap sack. Around Thanksgiving he covered a flatbed trailer with chicken wire and turned the kids loose with the used tissues. We crammed tissue into the holes of that chicken wire for hours, and we ended up with the whitest, crustiest float you've ever seen."
"Since the tissues were pre-moistened we weren't worried about rain or theft. We were the originators of protective coating."
Eventually local high school marching bands got in on the parade action, even though little forethought went into the parade layouts back in the old days.
"I played trumpet for the Wheat Swamp (now North Lenoir) High School Marching Band in 1964," said Paulette Burroughs. "We started out fine, but somewhere around the middle of "Hold What You've Got" by Joe Tex, the horses the 4-H club were riding just ahead of us all spontaneously got a case of the trots. It sounded as if every tire on the eastern seaboard had been punctured at the same time."
"Our bandleader at that time was about half a Nazi, so we didn't dare deviate from the routine. The guys playing the trombones were slipping and sliding the worst, but the crowd just thought they'd come up with some killer dance moves. After it was over we all agreed that if we could handle that **** we could handle anything."
Over the last few decades, the La Grange Christmas Parade has turned into a well-oiled machine with very few hiccups. Aside from one guy blasting profane music from his car stereo, the "Meat Is Murder" float being pelted with live ribs and someone wearing a Duke t-shirt, incidents have been few and far between.
"The person wearing the Duke t-shirt was apprehended, deloused and issued a UNC windbreaker all in the space of 14 minutes," said La Grange Sheriff Jim Spanarkel. "We understand the suspect in that case has undergone counseling and is currently rooting for the N.C. State Wolfpack, which isn't a full cure but he seems to be heading in the right direction."
"As a matter of fact, the last time anything bad happened is the year we had a no candy policy," says La Grange historian Calvin Broadus. "Bryan Hanks from the Free Press threw a full-size Butterfinger at a woman on crutches and took her knee out."
"The candy bar had been in the freezer for a few days," Hanks said. "Excuse me for wanting to keep my candy fresh."