Will we let dark skies ruin our parade? We’ll find out

What’s long and brightly colored and moves slowly through downtown Spokane on the third Saturday of May every year? It’s the Armed Forces Torchlight Parade – the Lilac Parade – but the 69-year-old is having a hard time making the route this year.

We all know that independent living can become a challenge as we grow older, and that goes for our parade as well.

Perhaps it’s time for hip replacement surgery or one of those nifty walkers with a little basket in front – it’s pretty clear that the Lilac Parade is not going to make it in its current state.

Spokane Lilac Festival Association President Sandy Brown said earlier this week that the parade’s financial foundation isn’t what it used to be – but that there will be a parade on May 19.

Brown also said Spokane needs to get behind the parade.

Actually, Spokane needs to perform heart surgery on the parade if it’s to survive the setbacks it has suffered over the last decade.

I love parades because they are low-impact, kind of old-fashioned entertainment the same way carousels are, and yes, I do know I’m a hopeless romantic.

During the time I’ve lived here, I’ve gone to the Lilac Parade probably every other year or so. I’ve found my perfect spot on the curb somewhere along the route. I’ve brought my own kid and his friends, and I’ve watched them play catch in the empty street before the parade. In the darkness at the end of the parade, I’ve seen the red and blue lights from the police and firetrucks reflected on their little upturned faces. As they grew older, I have watched them marvel at the military vehicles and look for friends in the high school bands.

Every year gives me a chance to brush up on local geography answering questions like, where on earth is Washtucna?

Even the year it really rained we had a pretty good time – I know lots of other people who’ve shared in that.

Support is necessary, but the truth is a community event is only as strong as the leadership in charge of it. Some volunteers, just like parade-goers, only stick around as long as the weather is nice and the crowds are applauding.

When it starts raining they leave town.

It’s when the coffers are empty and the hard work is doled out that it takes real guts to step up to the plate and say, “I’m going to make a commitment to this, I’m going to make it work.”

So the question is: Are there people like that in Spokane? If there are, and they show up now, I’m sure there is hope for our parade. Now would be a good time for the royalty from years past to give back to the event that meant so much to them. All grown up and hopefully with some solid business connections, they may be able to rustle up some support.

They should also be able to answer the really big question donors will ask them: What does a parade do? It doesn’t feed hungry babies or put shirts on the backs of the poor; it doesn’t build low-income houses or provide medical aid to the uninsured, like so many other organizations out there competing for charity dollars.

A parade gives us a chance to celebrate, it gets people together to build floats and practice in marching bands. It gives us a chance to applaud the local military branches and wave at politicians already elected or out on an early campaign swing for fall. A parade gives us something to come together about. This one is free and particularly wholesome: I’ve yet to see a single wardrobe malfunction of the Super Bowl kind.

But deep down inside I have a dreadful feeling that the time of the great community parade simply for the sake of having a parade is over. Its heyday has passed. I hope I’m wrong; only time and the people of Spokane will tell.