Of Memories, Celebrations and Birthday Cakes by Konnie Enos

Yes, this is the same picture for last week. Yes, it is now 50 years since Bonnie marched in that parade.

I have different memories of that day, mostly because I wasn’t in the parade. I’d chosen a place to watch from just after where the parade would pass through the old underpass. (I’m not even sure it’s still there.)

I chose this particular spot because of the shade. The high bank behind that side of the sidewalk was topped with some overhanging trees or bushes. Between the wall and the greenery topping it, it afford some protection from the sun. Since it was summer, and I can recall no clouds to speak of, heat was a given, and I do not like being overheated. Frankly, I did not envy my sister marching in the parade at all.

And as I remember, Bonnie was on the other side of the street when she marched past. I did see her, but she wasn’t close enough for me to say high to her.

I do, however, remember one participant in the parade who got very close to me, close enough I could have touch her mount if she’d paused a few seconds longer.

I can still see her, a young woman, all dressed up in a cowgirl outfit, including the hat, riding a beautiful mostly white, or at least very light-colored pony. The young woman’s hair was also very light colored. As she pranced over to my side of the road, the young woman smiled and waved at everyone, and I did the same back.

Now that in and of itself wasn’t remarkable enough for me to even think about after that day, even then I could remember seeing those ponies and how close she came to me.

But what makes it so much more memorable to me is something that happened much more recently.

You see, over twenty years ago we moved into our current house. In the process, we met a very sweet older couple. He was remarkable for his size. I’m sure he’s over a foot taller than I am.

She was remarkable because every single time I saw her, I had a very clear image of a young smiling cowgirl. And I could not fathom where I’d seen that cowgirl or why seeing her reminded me of the cowgirl.

I asked her where she’d grown up. Tried to figure out if we’d ever lived in or around the same area or went to the same college, at the same time. Just any reason why I would see that cowgirl every time I looked at her.

It was several years later when I was sitting in her house with her, her husband, my husband and one other lady just talking, while we waited for others to join us for a meeting we were having.

As I recall we got on the subject of memories, and or celebrations and somehow the Bicentennial was brought up. And this wonderful woman launched into a story about how she’d gone to visit her uncle and was supposed to head home that Saturday morning (Saturday, July 3^rd, 1976) but instead her uncle practically manhandled her into riding their last pony in the nearest Bicentennial parade. She explained that someone had gotten sick, she was a last minute, available replacement.

Possibly because she was talking about riding ponies, out of sheer curiosity, I asked her where this parade was.

My jaw about hit the floor when she said my HOMETOWN.

And it instantly dawned on me that I wasn’t seeing flashes of just any cowgirl. I was seeing her, much younger, but her.

She could remember being in the parade but didn’t remember anybody in particular she waved at. I obviously retained the memory of seeing her. And with another event to connect that distant memory to, I have not forgotten it since.

The only other thing I remember from that conversation was that everyone there was absolutely astonished that my husband and I were even old enough to remember the Bicentennial, let alone having been teenagers at the time.

I’m sorry, but twenty or so years ago, we did not look like we were in our forties.

Also, when I saw the picture for Bonnie’s post, I quickly placed who was front and center and exactly when it was taken. Then I attempted to get my husband, son and daughter to figure out who was in the picture.

Since they couldn’t see her face, none of them could figure out it was Bonnie.

And yes, I can remember the Ross Park picnic on the Monday after the parade, complete with our birthday cake, and the comment about it being for our country’s birthday. I told them it was for our birthday.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.