I attended the St. Patty’s Day parade for the first and only time on March
17, 1970. My friend Bill had invited me to meet him in Manhattan for lunch and
subsequent viewing of the parade.
After introducing me to his
co-workers, we walked to Finnegan’s Bar & Grill. The place had door-to-door
and wall-to-wall people all ordering corned beef and cabbage with green beer.
We made our way to the back room and savored our traditional Irish meal. After
eating, we ventured out into the cold and blustery NY air and walked to 5th
Ave. bucking the wind all the way. The parade looked in full swing with the
Ancient Order of Hibernians in their green Fedoras and New York’s finest NYPD
in full dress blue uniforms. They marched along the green stripe painted by the
city down the center of 5th Ave.
Too cold to stand for
long, we ambled up the avenue until Bill said “Let’s stop in here to warm up.”
We entered a very crowded bar where everyone in a jovial mood invited us to
imbibe with them. We obliged. After “warming up” we left the bar to see the
rest of the parade. Somehow we had accumulated a group of eight to ten people
who accompanied us. A block or two later, we decided to “warm up” again in
another bar. This process repeated itself for the rest of the afternoon.
At four o’clock someone
suggested we all go for coffee.
“Oh, I’d love a cup of
coffee,” I said. Knowing I had to drive home, I needed to counter the effects
of all the alcohol I drank.
So the group of us (and
it seemed to have grown), trudged to another bar and grill. The waiter ushered
us downstairs to a large crowded room with long tables.
“Coffee all around?” Bill
asked.
“Yes, Yes,” we echoed.
When the coffee arrived,
I warmed my hands on the cup and took a welcomed sip only to realize that he
had ordered “Irish Coffee.” A generous shot of whiskey with a liberal layer of
cream adorned the miniscule amount of coffee.
“I think I’ll have tea,”
I said.
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