An early St. Pat's Celebration
13/03/16 05:16
In the days when we lived in Chicago there were quite a few police officers in that city with Irish-American ancestry. Most also had Roman Catholic religious roots as well. It was rumored in those days that anyone wearing a clerical collar, Catholic or Protestant was safe from receiving a fine for a minor traffic infraction, “Aye, father, we were hoping that you might be willing to slow down a wee bit, and won’t you be saying a prayer for the boys in blue while you’re at it.”
In those days we had a friend, John, who was raised in Boston. John believed that Boston had a better St. Patrick’s Day celebration than Chicago, but he was the only one we knew who shared that opinion. Chicago was pretty good at getting into its March 17th celebration. One year while we were living there a group of us had taken a trip to Wichita, Kansas to staff a church retreat. We had driven a rental car and I was selected to return the car. With my usual concentration on the business of student life, I had failed to notice that the day to return the car was St. Patrick’s Day. It took two hours to get from Lake Shore Drive to the rental agency in downtown Chicago, driving a convoluted route to get around the various street barricades and spending most of the time stalled in gridlocked traffic.
It was said, in those days, that the corner of State and Madison was the busiest intersection in the world. It was in the heart of downtown Chicago, the zero point of the Chicago street numbering system. It was the location of the giant Marshall Field’s department store. So, of course, the intersection was the ideal place for a St. Patrick’s Day parade. Chicago didn’t just host a parade for the day, however. There was the matter of repainting the stripes in the street green to match the colors of Ireland. Then there was the process of dyeing the Chicago River green. Mayor Daley himself - not the recent one, but his father who served as Mayor for 21 years - donned his green sash and led the parade, walking with other politicians down the street.
Ah, but that was then and this is now, as they say.
They held the Chicago parade and dyed the river green yesterday, March 12, 2016, instead of waiting for the 17th because it is easier to provide traffic control on a Saturday when things aren’t quite as busy in downtown Chicago. That kind of a consideration wouldn’t have happened back in the days when we lived there. But then, I’m getting old and old people tend to reminisce about the days gone by.
Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, lived in the 5th century. We know more about him from legend than from actual history. It is said that once, when he was holding a 40-day fast on a hilltop, he banned all snakes from Ireland forever. The feat seems less impressive considering the fact that there is no evidence that there were ever any snakes in post Ice Age Ireland. It is probably more likely that he actually did use a three-leafed Shamrock as in illustration of the Christian trinity, though in that case, three was already a very significant number to Irish people and he probably didn’t have a hard time with that particular lesson. In pagan Ireland, three was considered to be a sacred number. There were many triple deities and that fact is said to have aided Patrick in his evangelical efforts. The concept of trinity was already engrained in the people’s minds. As to the legend of his walking stick turning into a living tree, I have no particular information. The legend is that at Aspatria it took so long for the people to learn the dogma that he was teaching that his stick, which had been stuck into the ground, sprouted roots.
All of that was in the 5th century. The 20th century was nearly three-quarters past when we were in Chicago. You didn’t have to be Catholic and you didn’t have to be Irish to be offered a glass of green beer and invited to celebrate on March 17. It was, in those days, Chicago’s biggest spring festival. If you’ve spent a winter in Chicago, you can understand why they need a spring festival. The occasion of St. Patrick’s day gave the city an excuse to clean up all of the sand and salt from winter plowing and freshen up the city in preparation for Easter, though it could be argued that St. Patrick’s Day was a bigger celebration than Easter in Chicago in those days.
Times have changed, but I guess the parade was still a lot of fun yesterday with bands and gymnasts and Irish dancers and plenty of flag twirlers. And they did dye the Chicago River green for the occasion. I watched an Internet video of the event. The bagpipers were even playing Dropkick Murphy’s “I’m Shipping Up to Boston.”
I'm a sailor peg
And I've lost my leg
Climbing up the top sails
I lost my leg!
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping off...to find my wooden leg
It probably makes more sense after a wee bit o whiskey, but Chicago is still Chicago and they were having a good time in Chicago yesterday.
One of Chicago’s most famous Irish immigrants was Catherine O’Leary, owner of a cow who is said to have started the Great Chicago Fire of 1871:
Late last night when folks were all in bed
Mrs. O’Leary took a lantern to the shed
And when the cow kicked it over, this is what she said,
“There’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight!
Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Our friend John’s opinions aside, Chicago does a pretty good job with its celebrations and this year they’re more than a week ahead of Boston, where the Annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade won’t be on March 17th, either, but rather March 20. I guess Bostonians don’t mind combining Palm Sunday and St. Patrick. After all they both involve showing a bit of green.
I wouldn’t know for sure. Although I never made a point of it when we lived in Chicago, I’m thinking that my Irish ancestors would have been wearing orange.
In those days we had a friend, John, who was raised in Boston. John believed that Boston had a better St. Patrick’s Day celebration than Chicago, but he was the only one we knew who shared that opinion. Chicago was pretty good at getting into its March 17th celebration. One year while we were living there a group of us had taken a trip to Wichita, Kansas to staff a church retreat. We had driven a rental car and I was selected to return the car. With my usual concentration on the business of student life, I had failed to notice that the day to return the car was St. Patrick’s Day. It took two hours to get from Lake Shore Drive to the rental agency in downtown Chicago, driving a convoluted route to get around the various street barricades and spending most of the time stalled in gridlocked traffic.
It was said, in those days, that the corner of State and Madison was the busiest intersection in the world. It was in the heart of downtown Chicago, the zero point of the Chicago street numbering system. It was the location of the giant Marshall Field’s department store. So, of course, the intersection was the ideal place for a St. Patrick’s Day parade. Chicago didn’t just host a parade for the day, however. There was the matter of repainting the stripes in the street green to match the colors of Ireland. Then there was the process of dyeing the Chicago River green. Mayor Daley himself - not the recent one, but his father who served as Mayor for 21 years - donned his green sash and led the parade, walking with other politicians down the street.
Ah, but that was then and this is now, as they say.
They held the Chicago parade and dyed the river green yesterday, March 12, 2016, instead of waiting for the 17th because it is easier to provide traffic control on a Saturday when things aren’t quite as busy in downtown Chicago. That kind of a consideration wouldn’t have happened back in the days when we lived there. But then, I’m getting old and old people tend to reminisce about the days gone by.
Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, lived in the 5th century. We know more about him from legend than from actual history. It is said that once, when he was holding a 40-day fast on a hilltop, he banned all snakes from Ireland forever. The feat seems less impressive considering the fact that there is no evidence that there were ever any snakes in post Ice Age Ireland. It is probably more likely that he actually did use a three-leafed Shamrock as in illustration of the Christian trinity, though in that case, three was already a very significant number to Irish people and he probably didn’t have a hard time with that particular lesson. In pagan Ireland, three was considered to be a sacred number. There were many triple deities and that fact is said to have aided Patrick in his evangelical efforts. The concept of trinity was already engrained in the people’s minds. As to the legend of his walking stick turning into a living tree, I have no particular information. The legend is that at Aspatria it took so long for the people to learn the dogma that he was teaching that his stick, which had been stuck into the ground, sprouted roots.
All of that was in the 5th century. The 20th century was nearly three-quarters past when we were in Chicago. You didn’t have to be Catholic and you didn’t have to be Irish to be offered a glass of green beer and invited to celebrate on March 17. It was, in those days, Chicago’s biggest spring festival. If you’ve spent a winter in Chicago, you can understand why they need a spring festival. The occasion of St. Patrick’s day gave the city an excuse to clean up all of the sand and salt from winter plowing and freshen up the city in preparation for Easter, though it could be argued that St. Patrick’s Day was a bigger celebration than Easter in Chicago in those days.
Times have changed, but I guess the parade was still a lot of fun yesterday with bands and gymnasts and Irish dancers and plenty of flag twirlers. And they did dye the Chicago River green for the occasion. I watched an Internet video of the event. The bagpipers were even playing Dropkick Murphy’s “I’m Shipping Up to Boston.”
I'm a sailor peg
And I've lost my leg
Climbing up the top sails
I lost my leg!
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping off...to find my wooden leg
It probably makes more sense after a wee bit o whiskey, but Chicago is still Chicago and they were having a good time in Chicago yesterday.
One of Chicago’s most famous Irish immigrants was Catherine O’Leary, owner of a cow who is said to have started the Great Chicago Fire of 1871:
Late last night when folks were all in bed
Mrs. O’Leary took a lantern to the shed
And when the cow kicked it over, this is what she said,
“There’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight!
Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Our friend John’s opinions aside, Chicago does a pretty good job with its celebrations and this year they’re more than a week ahead of Boston, where the Annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade won’t be on March 17th, either, but rather March 20. I guess Bostonians don’t mind combining Palm Sunday and St. Patrick. After all they both involve showing a bit of green.
I wouldn’t know for sure. Although I never made a point of it when we lived in Chicago, I’m thinking that my Irish ancestors would have been wearing orange.