William C. Richards, Douglas D. Martin, James S. Pooler, Frank D. Webb, John N. W. Sloan

Biographical details

William C. Richards, Douglas D. Martin, James S. Pooler, Frank D. Webb, John N. W. Sloan Million watch Legion veterans march for hours (1931)

The flashing waves of color rolling up the avenue hour after hour, like the endless wash of some mighty human stream.
The blue sky, across which drifted white streamers like "the trailing robes of God." A glorious sun throwing each flash of color into bold brilliance.
The endless passing of the hours with the crowd growing larger each minute. The inexorable forward movement which defeated every effort to hold it in check.
The encroachment on the street, the imperceptible movement which finally filled the pavements until the Legion marched a path no wider than the car tracks.
Source: Wikisource

William C. Richards, Douglas D. Martin, James S. Pooler, Frank D. Webb, John N. W. Sloan Million watch Legion veterans march for hours (1931)

Marching into the dusk the great parade rolled on. Every downtown light went on, and the whole scene was transformed.
Colors Become Radiant
Groups of American and Legion colors became moving clusters of jewels. Radiant colors of the marchers' uniforms were whipped into a riotous rainbow, through which unreal lines of moving men kept pressing.
Out of the yellow mist far down the street came the last of the Legionnaires. And out of the black night skies overhead there echoed the last roll of the fading drums. With one movement the tremendous crowd surged free.
Source: Wikisource

William C. Richards, Douglas D. Martin, James S. Pooler, Frank D. Webb, John N. W. Sloan Million watch Legion veterans march for hours (1931)

They had bitter training in discipline over there on the Western Front. They were at St. Mihiel, the Aisne-Marne and Chemin Des Dames. Fifteen thousand casualties was the price they paid for their valor and their victories.
Not until 3:30 o'clock did the parade really open up and march in anything resembling a quick step. The sun, sinking behind the skyscrapers, threw shadows grateful alike to marchers and crowd over Woodward Ave.
It is a ditty they sung in the old days, revived for Detroit's carnival. They sung it well, in the Massachusetts parade, the boys from Lynn.
Source: Wikisource

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