Proud grandfather, veteran joins parade
World War II veteran Frank Portuese with his granddaughter, Sarah Fernandez, at the Hicksville Memorial Day Parade in 2004. She was "Poppy Queen" for the day. Credit: Barbara Fernandez
In 1954, my parents bought our family home in Hicksville. Like most World War II veterans, my dad, Frank Portuese, joined the local Veterans of Foreign Wars group, the William M. Grouse Jr. Post No. 3211.
When I was growing up, our family would set up folding chairs outside St. Ignatius Loyola Church and watch the Memorial Day Parade proceed along Route 107 in Hicksville. We’d ask Dad why he never marched with the other veterans. He served in the Army in France and England. My siblings and I knew Dad was wounded in World War II, but we never knew more than the fact that his injury prevented him from walking long distances. He didn’t like to talk about the war.
We reminded him that the post had a car that disabled veterans could ride in. He said that was for the men who were more seriously injured. Dad didn’t feel right taking a seat. When he was 65 in 1988, we told him as a senior citizen, he could ride in the car. “Nope,” he said, that was for the older men.
When he turned 75, we told him he was officially old. We said, “Ride in the car!”
“Nope,” he said, there was always someone older.
Then in 2004, when Dad was 81, he came home from a VFW meeting and told of a contest for a Poppy Queen for the parade. Any girl age 7 or 8 was eligible, as long as she was related to an active post member. She would ride in a convertible and wave to the crowd.
My daughter, Sarah, was 7 — perfect! She was the only one eligible that year, so she won the honor. Although my father had put it off for so long, this time he agreed to ride in the convertible with his granddaughter.
On parade day, Sarah was excited. She wore a white dress with red and pink flowers. The VFW gave her a blue satin sash with the words Poppy Queen. Dad wore his dark VFW jacket and his post hat. He was giddy and warned me, “Don’t be late.”
We met Dad and my stepmother, Santa, at the Sears parking lot where the participants gathered.
My husband and I wanted to take pictures and videos, so we left to get a spot along route. The staging area was so hectic that we never had a chance to see the car Sarah and Dad would ride in, or to thank the car owner.
As we stood and watched the parade pass on Old Country Road, we expected to see Sarah on the back deck of a white 1950s Chevy convertible. We saw a car of that description coming, and Dad waving to crowd, but no Sarah!
But as the car came closer, we saw her sitting next to Dad, hardly visible. It turned out that we never thought to tell her it was all right, just this once, not to wear a seat belt, and it was OK to sit on the back of the car itself. She didn’t want to get in trouble, so she buckled up!
Luckily, the car owner had a cushion that raised her a little. There was no room for Santa in the car, so she hitched a ride in a camouflaged Hummer with soldiers in uniform. We laughed when we saw her go by, smiling and waving like a queen, as three or four soldiers stood with weapons in their arms.
In the end, Dad finally participated in the Memorial Day parade and accepted the respect, honor and recognition he deserved!
Reader Barbara Fernandez lives in North Bellmore.
