I've told the story recently about the Flintstone car my dad made us for the Alpine Days parade the year that I was seven. It was a very kind thing for him to do. He knew how important the parade was to me and how much I wanted to be in it.
It was just a little small-town parade...a parade that began in 1947 when the Alpine LDS Ward needed a fund-raiser to reshingle the church. The church ladies (Relief Society) were in charge of the bazaar and the Primary (children's organization) took over the miniature parade.
My Parade Story...
The Primary President's name was Rose and she was an imposing woman. When she stood at the podium in the chapel of the old Purple Church, squirming Primary children had best sit still and pay attention.
That day, however, she didn't even have to clap her hands for order, all the sunburned and freckled little faces were looking up at her with anticipation. For that was the day when she would make the class assignments for the Alpine Day miniature parade and announce the names of the King and Queen. The lucky boy and girl would get to wear fancy crowns and ride on a special float.
I looked into the eyes of Sister Rose and willed her to call my name. I can't remember who they chose, but it wasn't me. I wished I was as pretty as my next door neighbor, Janae, who had blonde hair and shiny shoes. I'm not sure if she were Queen at that time, but I remember the special float being parked in their yard. I was pretty let down to be passed over again...and I probably didn't hide my disappointment well!
Row by row, the children were dismissed to go to class. Upstairs, in a stuffy corner classroom, the teacher desperately tried to keep order while a helper passed out an assortment of rhythm instruments. Bored children...plus noisemakers...inevitably equals chaos!
Immediately the too-small room was filled with the clanging of triangles and clopping of wooden blocks to the accompaniment of pie tin tambourines and scratchy sandpaper blocks. Like squawking hens running around the chicken yard, we were out of control.
Walked and Walked and Walked...
When she finally got us settled down, the harried teacher attempted to teach us the words to a song about pioneer children. "Pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked and walked. Pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked and walked."
It must have been the last straw for that poor woman when I raised my hand in the middle of the song. "Those pioneer children sure did a lot of walking, Teacher!" I remarked brightly. I remember spending the rest of Primary out in the hall, to the annoyance of Sister Rose. Served her right for not picking me to be Queen.