But rewind back to November, and this current love affair almost wasn’t. Hurricane Sandy hit the last week of Oct. into the first week of Nov. and changed much of the Staples schedule, including Homecoming and Spirit Week.
Originally scheduled on Nov. 10, the Homecoming game was moved to Tues. Nov. 13. The worst had happened. Before you roll your eyes at me for being overdramatic, you must realize that Homecoming was rescheduled to a Tuesday night.
The worst had definitely happened.
First came the issue of Spirit Week. Two days of dressing up didn’t really give me the opportunity to win best outfit, and let’s face it, if you don’t want to win the free shirt that’s given out at the Pep Rally as a reward, then you might as well not dress up at allwhich brings me to the next issue of the Pep Rally. It was no longer the day before Homecoming. The annual traditions that were a rite of passage of senior year were falling apart.
When the cheerleaders were no longer allowed to lead the motorcade, I had just about had it. 5:00 p.m. on a school day with no one to lead us: it looked as if the motorcade was not going to happen. This was obviously a very dark time.
After as much successful planning that can happen in a Facebook group of over 400 teenagers, the idea was to meet at CompoBeach at 4:00. And so, my group of friends borrowed a Jeep Wrangler, found a junior who reluctantly drove us, and headed out in our decorated car to the beach.
When we arrived, I was shocked at the uniformity everyone was able to pull off. What I had expected to be a chaotic clamor with no instruction turned into a never-ending line of cars waiting to pull out of the beach. And that’s when it all began.
It was love at first sight.
There is a myriad of activities to look forward to throughout senior year: painting your cars, the internship program, graduation, getting into college. Let me tell you, none of them hold a candle to the motorcade.
As we rode through Westport, people literally stood on their doorsteps cheering us on. When we paraded down Main Street, customers and employees came out of their stores to watch (LF uploaded a whole album if you’re interested in checking that out).
And despite that one woman who gave us the middle finger until the light turned green, most people always gave us the right of way and allowed our parade to stick together. Probably for their own safety, now that I think about it, but it seemed nice at the time.
I actually got sad, as it was still going on, that it was going to end soon. As we approached North Ave., I requested taking another lap. There was a carload of my friends behind me, and we spent most of the ride screaming song lyrics back and forth at each other.
Fortunately, our timing was perfect. We approached the Staples parking lot right before 5:00. All participants waited until the last car had arrived to storm down the hill into the game as a pack. Everyone ran down screaming together.
I often try to incite a movement for a spring motorcade. We’re not even at school anymore, and I haven’t given up.
Once I was asked what the best day of my senior year was, and I responded before the question was even finished with, “the motorcade,” as if everyone should know that. After writing this ode, I’m willing to promote it to the best day of my life. To all juniors: I’m willing to fly back from college next year to drive you, just to relive my glory days. To this year’s motorcade: gone, but never forgotten.
