Wonderful Warren has been my home for the last 46 years. When I try to explain what my adopted home town is like, part of my bragging is always about our Independence Day celebrations.

“It’s not all barbecues and fireworks. I was thrilled when I first learned that we have a BIG Fourth of July parade every year. My children were ages 3 and 7 when we moved here and I thought about how much fun they would have.”

Over four decades later, it certainly has been that way. Very few towns have a major parade for the Fourth. It took a while before I caught on to why the parade was such a success, such a point of pride for the Warren community.

One of the most telling stories I boast about to my distant friends or visitors is our legendary tale of the chairs. Every year on July 1st, residents begin to place their chairs along the parade route. The media usually reminds everyone that “you must wait until July 1st to claim your spot.” It’s a lot like claiming “my pew” in church. And so, the chairs begin arriving on both sides of the long route. There will be two matching camp chairs beside a driveway, three assorted folding chairs on the front lawn curb, two kitchen chairs on the walk beside the park.

Watching the weather forecast is important. The dining room chairs don’t come out until the morning of the parade, and by then they are the third row. Little kids’ colorful plastic chairs, inflatable chairs – even footstools – anything goes as long as it’s a seat for the almost three-hour parade. No one touches them. Occasionally you’ll see folks plunking in the chairs for a smoke or a sandwich on July 2nd or 3rd.

My New York City friend was incredulous. “Are you serious? People use chairs from their homes and no one steals them?” After reassuring her that was indeed the case, she laughed, “Do you have any idea how long those chairs would last in the South Bronx? Maybe a half hour. Definitely not overnight. But three days?” Fuggedaboudit.

I love the bands and drum corps in the parade lineup. When a drumline passes close by little kids sitting on the curb, their hearts pound and the excitement increases. Up close, they can see the bass drumhead vibrate when struck. They see the tassels rhythmically swish on the majorettes’ boots. And kids have the best up-close seats for the Shriners’ Zem-Zem racing go-carts.

My kids loved the hot little yellow cars speeding and zigzagging through their complicated weaving patterns on the street. All the well-rehearsed men in the red fezzes were every bit as happy as the children. I don’t know anybody who didn’t envy their big-kid fun.

And of course, there is the candy, thrown from atop the many floats and passing vehicles. Half the fun is watching the scrambling and pocket stuffing among the little ones. First-graders seem particularly suited to the candy grab, both old enough and fast enough.

The crowds of up to 5,000 (!) that line the parade route are from many towns around us. But it is the yearly return of Warrenites to their families and friends that swells the crowd’s size.

For the 27 years that our family lived downtown, we gathered at our favorite parade meeting spot at General Joseph Warren Park. It was catch-up time for neighbors and old high school friends; it was time to see how much everyone’s children had grown; it was time to chat with the young adults visiting home, returning to a treasured childhood tradition. The stories, the histories, the old friendships – all mixed with hoots and laughter while we waited for the first marching band to reach the park.

After the last note is played and the last lollipop is thrown, the parade goers meander to their cars, often many blocks away. Then it is on to the family cookouts, the gathering of the relatives, and the class reunions over the weekend.

Our special parade is only part of what keeps our natives returning to their home town for the holiday. This year the festivities are three action-packed days of food, entertainment and fun, culminating in Saturday’s impressive fireworks.

The ticket is still free for a ringside seat. A wonderful community tradition.

Marcy O’Brien can be reached at Moby.32@hotmail.com