SMALL TOWN PARADE 1995

A parade is always better if the drums can be heard even before the marchers come in sight. Even better if it's the home town all-class alumni marching band.

The all-class high school reunion is in full swing in the little mining town of Kellogg, Idaho. The main street is crowded with alumni from out of town, peering at each others' name tags and screaming in recognition, while twenty-somethings rescue toddlers from the middle of the street as the marchers advance.

The all-class band sounds good after only one night of practice together. The drums give an introductory roll, the band members lift their instruments and erupt into the Wildcat Fight song. A dozen lithe and long-haired cheerleaders form a human pyramid and then tumble into a series of cartwheels, while a gray-haired drum majorette from the class of about 1963 struts her stuff ahead of the musicians, faultlessly twirling her baton. The first verse ends and the cheer leaders face the crowd, pom-poms held high. KAY! EE! DOUBLE-ELL O! GEE GEE KELLOGG! GO! GO! GO!! and the band crashes into the second verse, turning the corner to march down the hill. The drill team of a decade ago marches proudly by, followed by truckload of four and five-year-olds wearing Wildcat sweaters with the logo "Cheerleading Clinic 1995."

Each class has been told to get a car of its own vintage, and they have outdone themselves. The Class of 1924 has an old red roadster with two elderly, barrel-chested men holding a banner, "State Football Champions, 1924!" A muddy jeep bears the announcement "No cars made in 1943." 1941 alums ride in a gleaming black hearse with the slogan "Always Prepared!" And as always in any parade, the Fire Department has an entry: old Engine Number One, its 70-year-old motor puttering softly and smoothly.

A police car brings up the rear of the thirty-class procession, its driver announcing over his loudspeaker, "This is the last parade vehicle. Please return to the sidewalks to make way for following traffic!" But this is a small town and we all overflow back into the street, greeting people we haven't seen in years as we make our way up the block to get coffee and pie at the P.E.O. booth, to hold us over until the barbecue tonight at the football field.

Keith Dahlberg