Seahawk Parade fun day worth the ordeal
Ted Escobar The Royal Register Editor
I was so excited when the Super Bowl came to a close that I suggested to Pat we go to the victory parade.
We were so excited that, as we drove home Monday evening from daughter Berney's house in Clatskanie, Oregon, we listened to everything we could find about the Seahawks on the radio.
Then the cold front became worse. The first snow hit us just outside of Hood River. Our spirits were dampened.
So we adjusted our plans. If Wednesday morning turned out to be cold, we'd stay home to watch the parade on television.
Then Tuesday morning I got disheartening news from Pat. Yakama Nation officials decided to take tribal members to the parade on casino busses. Pat had to drive.
Pat knew I was torqued. So she went into problem-solving mode. At about 4 p.m. she called to ask what I had planned for dinner. Nothing.
"Well, don't do anything. I'm going to have a surprise for you," she said.
Not many things surprise me. So I really thought: No way.
Still, when Pat came in the door at about 5:45, I was looking for my surprise. There was none. She didn't bring any special food to cook, no pizza, no hamburgers.
I couldn't stand the suspense. So I growled: What about that surprise you promised?
"It will be here pretty soon," she said.
Now I'm really wondering. Pizza is the only thing delivered to our house.
"No, it's not pizza, and I can't tell you what it is. That will ruin the surprise."
At about 7:30 I spotted a crouching figure coming toward the TV room. Not until he stood up did I realize it was my son Teddy from Spokane, accompanied by his own son Ray Ray.
"I came to take you to the parade in Seattle," Teddy said.
I was not surprised. I was stunned. Pat had pulled off a good one.
Teddy and I made plans to fool everyone in Seattle. We would arrive at the SeaTac terminal of the Link Rail train at 10 a.m., board there before anyone else and get to Pioneer Square well ahead of the parade.
When we exited the car at the parking garage, we saw the line at the station was long but not too long. Everybody was chanting: Sea-Hawks, Sea-Hawks. It was all fun. We went on up to the fourth level to catch the train.
Boom, as in Legion of Boom. The line came right through the garage and beyond us. We had no choice but to walk and walk and . . . to get to the end of it.
We joined the line at about 10:30. At about noon we gave up. We were halfway to the train, and the parade was moving.
By phone, Pat said her group was placed in a location where she couldn't see the parade. So she and our God-daughter Ana went shopping.
Not wanting to give up without one more try, Teddy and I drove to Seattle along an alternate route and eventually worked our way to Sixth Avenue, just above the Stadium.
It was about 1:30, and I considered leaving. Surely the parade was ended.
"No," Teddy said. "The parade is not here yet. Just walk down to Fourth Avenue and get some pictures. I'll drive around and come back to this spot over and over until you return."
I did just that and, when I stepped onto Fourth Avenue everything around me was clear of people. But to my right, maybe 300 yards, was the biggest crowd I've ever seen anywhere.
I was dog tired when I got back to the car, but on the way home, Teddy and I kept commenting about how much fun we'd had together for one day. Everbody in Seattle had been excited, even at the Link Rail station.
Two-year-old Ray Ray asked about the parade he'd missed and then fell asleep. We got home at about 5:30.
Pat came in the door at about 8:00 lugging more Seahawk stuff. She handed me a Super Bowl Champions cap first so I couldn't complain.
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