Rain threatened to disrupt Harvard’s Fourth of July festivities all day this year, from the bicycle decorating competition on the Common and the parade down Ayer Road and Mass. Ave. to the afternoon’s ceremonies and field events in front of the town library. Aside from occasional spritzes and drizzles, however, the rain held off until midafternoon, when the heavens finally opened. A 3 p.m. deluge, accompanied by distant flashes of lightning and thunder, forced the Parks and Recreation Commission to cancel the return of beach games it had announced only the day before.
The 1912 Abbott Detroit owned by Bob Blanck and husband Jud Ratliffe is one of only four Abbotts intact. A distinguishing feature of the car is its acetylene ignition system, which led to sometimes-explosive consequences. (Photos by Lisa Aciukewicz)
Continuing a family tradition, Katie Carlson rides a Ford 801 Powermaster tractor in the parade.
The parade got underway promptly at 11 a.m. Two police cars, followed by a color guard consisting of Air Force veteran Jon Schoenberg, Navy veteran Lorin Johnson, and Army veteran Ralph Fehlberg, led the marchers. The 14-piece Nashoba Valley Concert Band seated on the back of a flatbed truck owned by Snag & Drag Towing company serenaded the 200 to 300 spectators standing or seated along the parade route.
State Sen. Jamie Eldridge and state Rep. Dan Sena—Harvard’s representatives in the Massachusetts Legislature—worked the crowd, shaking hands with bystanders of all ages.
Grand Marshal Lucy Wallace rode in a green 1912 Abbott Detroit owned by Bob Blanck and husband Jud Ratliffe of Harvard. Only four Abbotts remain in the world, Blanck told the Press. A distinguishing feature of the car is its acetylene ignition system, which led, in its day, to sometimes explosive consequences, Blanck said.
Citizens of Note Paul and Marty Green were seated in the back of an all-electric Ford F-150 Lightning truck driven by Jefferson Burson. They were accompanied by their daughter and son-in-law, Sarah and Ben Carmichael, and their granddaughter, Georgia.
The Republican Town Committee made an appearance, handing out American flags and marching beside a black pickup truck with an inflated gray elephant on top. Other groups included the League of Women Voters of Harvard (see story), the Parent Teachers Organization, Boy Scouts, and Girl Scouts.
There were fewer floats than in the past, but Carlson Orchards had two, one a tribute to owner Frank Carlson, who died this spring. The lifeguards were back, riding in the harbormaster’s motorcraft and armed with water squirters, which prompted some onlookers to defensively pop open their umbrellas. And the Bare Hill Rowing Association made its annual appearance with a sign urging “Join the Team,” as team members perched among the crossbars of a blue trailer used to haul the club’s rowing shells to area regattas.
Among the floats and banners were more than a dozen antique cars, recruited and gathered for the occasion by volunteers Pat Jennings and Theresa Ledoux. One of the oddest was a three-wheeled, bug-like, red and white BMW Fiesta 300 dating from the 1950s, owned by Gerard Del Priore of Littleton. Del Priore told the Press at least one person had escaped from East Germany in a Fiesta by hiding in the engine compartment behind the driver’s seat.
Bringing up the parade’s rear were Harvard’s ambulance and crew, followed by the town’s eight fire engines and two more police cruisers, their sirens putting a final ear-splitting stamp on the occasion.
Nina Iversen was this year’s master of ceremonies, presiding over the flag-raising at the field in front of the library and introducing Rachel Molnar, a Bromfield graduate and Clark University student who sang the national anthem. As the afternoon’s games got underway, local pop and folk singers Miki and Dave Fitzgibbons of the Rafters, performing with Greg Compagnone, provided music, kicking off their set with John Mellencamp’s “Small Town.”
Joshua Iverson presided over field events, which drew an impressive crowd of competitors, the longest lines forming at the pie-eating and greased-pole stations.
The afternoon’s food providers were a hit as well. The line for lunch at the Lions Club tent stretched all the way from midfield to the game area, while dozens more waited for ice cream at Dylan and Pete’s truck.
By the time the rain arrived, however, the field had emptied. Members of the boys and girls soccer teams and their coaches scrambled to collect trash, break down tents, and gather the remains of the afternoon’s games—leaving behind only memories.
