The banner on the convertible read, “I dreamed I rode in the Mystic Tercentenary Parade in my Maidenform Bra.” It was July 17, 1954, and Mystic was celebrating its 300th birthday with a big parade.

There were marching bands, horse drawn vehicles, antique cars, floats, and, yes, a woman sans blouse perched on the back of a car sponsored by a local dress shop. I remember the day (although not the provocative young lady) because I was on a float with other kids from Broadway Elementary School. The tableau was a colonial classroom. The schoolmaster (our principal) wore buckles on his britches and hat; my buddies and I wore faux colonial garb and pretended to study our hornbooks. The cheering crowds lining the parade route made us feel like very important 11-year-olds.

The Mystic River Historical Society has an extensive collection of parade images, many of which you can browse online. Slides and photos from the 1954 event reflect the village’s historic past. For example, a float resembling a small boat was entered by the descendants of Robert Burrows, a 17th-century town founder who transported passengers by ferry across the Mystic River (probably under today’s I-95 span). The Daughters of the American Revolution sponsored a float about the Battle of Groton Heights. Another float representing early war years featured Fort Rachel, the site of defense preparations during the War of 1812.

The parade was also an opportunity for local businesses to advertise, and for some people to show off a little bit. One picture shows a man looking relaxed and in control atop a penny-farthing, one of those early bicycles with a huge wheel in front counterbalanced by a tiny one in back.

The MRHS website documents parades from other years, too, but photographs of the 1884 Mother Hubbard Parade seem to be absent. However, their newsletters feature written accounts of the event, and while it struck some people as hilarious at the time, it sounds bizarre and cringe-worthy today.

Mother Hubbard parades were being held all over the country, motivated by the fact that a woman was campaigning to become the next President of the United States. It was decades before women could even vote, yet Belva Lockwood took up the challenge.

Belva was remarkable. She went to college, unusual at the time for women, became an educator, and then studied for the bar. She was one of the first female attorneys in America, and successfully petitioned Congress for approval to argue cases before the Supreme Court. She was passionate about suffrage, women’s rights, equal pay for female teachers, the world peace movement, and temperance. She ran for president twice, but of course the odds of success were nil. Still, her candidacy was regarded by some men (and regrettably some women) as threatening.

Mystic’s Mother Hubbard procession began at the bridge and ended at Steamboat Wharf. It was led by the Mystic Cornet Band, whose drum major wielded a broom as a baton. There were over 100 participants, mostly men, many wearing house dresses and poke bonnets. Some pushed baby carriages or clutched rag dolls and giant baby bottles. Men on horseback amused the crowd by their attempts to manage their long skirts. The closing ceremony featured a man in drag, rumored to be from a New London newspaper, reading a satirical poem. A Mystic newspaper characterized the event as displaying “broad gauge” humor.

In the long run, Belva got the last laugh. Today her picture hangs in the National Portrait Gallery with many of America’s most important movers and shakers. Images of the men who mocked her don’t.

Because of the pandemic, many traditional parades were cancelled. That’s inconsequential compared to all the deprivation and heartache that COVID-19 caused. Still, parades are important. They celebrate anniversaries, holidays, and diverse cultures. They’re occasions for people to enjoy one another, and to honor the things they hold dear. Captured in photographs, parades become time capsules preserving the past for us to appreciate all over again.