By Anne White
By early afternoon Sunday, Greenwich Avenue will begin to fill with families lining the curb, children leaning forward for a better view, and the steady sound of bagpipes moving down from Town Hall.
The St. Patrick’s Day Parade will step off March 22 at 2:00 p.m., continuing a tradition that has been organized for more than 50 years by the Hibernian Association.
The parade begins at Town Hall and proceeds down Greenwich Ave.
The event has become a fixture on the town calendar, drawing residents out at a moment when winter is beginning to give way to spring. The timing is part of its appeal. It is one of the first large gatherings of the year, offering a reason for neighbors to return to shared public space.
Preparation for the parade begins well before the first group steps off. Participants will use shuttle buses running from the Island Beach parking lot to Town Hall, allowing marchers to assemble at the starting point without adding congestion to the parade route. The system, now familiar to regular participants, helps maintain the flow of the event from start to finish.
On the street, the experience is both structured and informal. Groups move in sequence, but the atmosphere along the sidewalks is unhurried. Families arrive early to claim space. Friends call out to one another across the avenue. Children weave between adults, waiting for the next band to come into view.
The Hibernian Association has sustained the parade across decades, creating an event that is passed from one generation to the next. Many who now attend with children or grandchildren first experienced the parade from the same sidewalks years earlier.
Organizers have also shared a traditional Irish blessing ahead of this year’s parade: “May there always be work for your hands to do. May your purse always hold a coin. May the sun always shine on your window pane. May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain. May the hand of a friend always be near you. May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.”
The words echo the tone of the day itself—grounded in tradition, but expressed through simple, familiar gestures. The parade does not rely on novelty. Its strength comes from repetition, from the expectation that, each March, the same streets will again fill with music, movement, and recognition.
By late afternoon, as the final groups reach the Island Beach parking lot, the crowd begins to thin. Families drift away from the route. Barricades come down. What remains is the imprint of a shared event—one that, for a few hours, gathers the town into a single place and purpose.
The following Sunday, the streets will return to their usual rhythm. But for those who attend, the pattern is already set. Next March, they will return to the same corners, at roughly the same time, to watch it all begin again.
