The Lowell Sun from Lowell, Massachusetts • Page 9

5.000 at Concord Patriot's ball Aprif 19975' P. "By fhe rude CONCORD, UP1 Ralph Waldn Emerson wrote the best known poem about (he start of the American Revolution. The poem, titled the "Concord was memorized by children through the nation as their most remembered lesson on the Revolution. It reads: Bjf the rude bridge that arched the Shod, Their flay to April's breeze unfurled; Here once the embattled farmers stood, The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps, And time the ruined bridge has swept, Down the dark stream that seaward, creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We.

place with a joy a votive stone, That memory may their deeds redeem, When, like our sires, our sons arc gone. 0 thou who made those heroes dure, To die, and leave their children free, Bid time and nature gently spare The I we raise to them mid thee. NAP BEFORE MARCH Scouts sleep at Chelmsford Training School before marching to Concord this morning. What ym sseesS in Concord John O'Keefe. Director of Public Relations, Concord Bicenf onnifll, sliows three items he said people needed if they are going to attend Bicentennial ceremonies af Concord today.

Be there early, have pleniy of gas, and carry a lunch, miiiiitmiiiiiiiimniiiiniiii iiiiimiiiiimiiiiiiiiiii Who fired first? LEXINGTON UP1) While historians never determined who fired that first shot at Lexington Green that triggered the British volley against the 17 Minutcmen, April IS, 1775, townspeople now believe it was a colonial. Peter Lund, a member of the present day Lexington Minutemen, said research hy the town indicates it was a resident who started the ballle thai left eight rebels dead and 10 wounded, 1 Lund noted the town had pul (he incident in Its annual battle rcinaclmcnt and this jear Ihe pari was played by Gary Finnerly. mm urn 1 mmm milium CONCORD If any spirits of Mim.len.tn oi yore dropped by for last night's "200th Anni vcrsary Patriot's Day Ball," Ihey found a Con 1 SUN jloH Fklil hi Ir.ln The family of Concord's Dr. and Mrs. Robert Canlu is (frosied ir authentic 1 775 erB costumes for last riglil's massive Bicen Peoples Bicentennial barricades.

knee deep In a I II lie 'chaos. But Ite spirit of yore was there, not be be daunted by any of it. At gala Bicentennial Ball fennral bH. From left Mn. Atiee Quale, the children's grandmother from 5t.

Paul, system, which broke down at one point, or about the Red Basement Singers, who sang very political songs acapella Tor a hil ionger than anyone wanted to hear. But their spirit really broke shortly after 3 a.m. when rains broke out. starting a steady exodus across the North Bridge to waiting cars and dry beds, stepping over bodies huddled under plastic larps, Ihe stream of youth, bot ucnecsen 31 narrow bridge, made it clear that the message Rifkin wanted to send to Wa shintgen was not that important to them. "I'm cold, j'm lired, and I'm going home." blurted out one youth who supported a girl who appeared to he sleepwalking.

assemble 45,000 people in one place, the evenl was a success. Few oF the ionic there could was get worked up over a roster of speakers however whose biggest name was Richard Chavez, the brother of Cesar Chavez, the famous president of the United Farm Workers Union. WHAT POLITICS they did like came from Phil Ochs, who dedicated a song to Ihe recently victorious Khmer Rouge and accused the military and the GIA of murdering John Kennedy. Ochs, whose activist pedigree is one of the finest around, created instant deja vue when AS THOUSANDS CONVERGE FOR CONCORD'S New arrivals round the. site of ihe hall' a refreshment might be opined (lie long tenting covered walkway led into a hugely wide entry area, while beyond and parallel stretched Kelly, 4, and Robbie, 8, and Mrs.

Coutu. appear he opened wifh his proles', classic. n't Mar cnin Anymore. The politics of Ihe evening though, seemed to fly over the audience's head In general. "What arc you here for?" Rifkin asked the crowd, clearly expecting to hear something like, lo protest." Instead, he heard; "We want music.

We want'm'usie." Rifkin bristled at the most repealed question mrcciea.ia nmi oy me press 01 the evening or Ue SO per cent silent maioritv that ne 15 ad promised. all coming here in caravans from nearby towns at 10 p.m. But Concord closed the roads al 111:30 without telling us. We thought They're all locked out now," he said angrily "Besidrs. Ihrrp'; nn narVins" "Flpsidi The young crowd venerallv behave writ violence was minimal, according to Red Cross oficials.

The task force of fa National Park Rangers from Washington were polife and restrained, if uniformed, in dealing with fhe youths. THE COLD, WET dawn produced an ugly scene to offset however beautiful the eariier spirit had been. "It looks like Night of The Living Dead out ibere," one reporter commented. "200 ANNIVERSARY PATRIOTS DAY BALL" It was a Fourth of July, party crowd as "silent majority" failed to By SAMUEL ALUS bun Jslaif CONCORD "It's a Fourth of July crowd," mused veteran folk singer Phil Ochs as he surveyed the mass the People's Bicentennial gathering last nig'ril. "It feels like a football game out on the streets wilh people parking their cars." It was a party crowd, he 45,000 to 50,000 people who filled a hiHside overlooking the Concord River near the North Bridge.

True, Ihe leader of Ihe event had more than reached his goal of 25,000 people' Bui Jeremy Rifkin was far off hose last week when he said lr.il DO per cent of ids lollowers from "that silent majority Hut Nixon spoke." There was vi. t.ia'.h no one over 3.) there last night. The crowd was young and out a guuu nine. "It's like a rock and toll aud.er.ee, only they're not as wild," remarked Tom Fields, owner of the company which donated the stage lighting for tree and a veleran crowd watcher. "I CAME llEHrJ for a good time, for a night out," ssid Don Verlaine of Everefl, swilling his beer and passing a roach to a (Fiend.

The crowd was not happy about the smirkl for cord they might have recognised, after a fashion stretches from Concord Armory to four in tne lent complex another with a shining dance floor ncal "1 daJS' tllc bll band sound a clos dais. "0le band sound" ol a closer yesler eluded two more huge tents stretching off at right angles from the main one, parallel to each outer and interconnected, one wilh dance floor and one willxmt, like the first two. Here 110 more than a couple of dozen chairs could he found throughout, couple of liny fables. Here and there, crackers and huge rounds oT cheese might be found to sustain the nigh 501)0 who lurned out for the Bicentennial's evening of ev nings in Concord. THE TM COItNF.RKD black hats anil urns iters of yesteryear, die bright cvcr divergcnl uniforms of Ihe Minulemen, enmc from near and far as in days gone by, the swishing gowns ol brocade and satin and lace of limir ladies were everywhere under those acres of tenting.

As celebrants grew with the hours fiom hundreds lo thousands, one could see eyes hrighlcning with the excitement of being where it all began (or a nation 200 years ago today an excitement that was alive in Hie very air. Here was the Bicentennial Bail thai counted the "real" one, the one that could come only once in the lifetime of each person there. At mid evening, a forthcoming cxhibiion by (hp Minutemen found an impossible scene as thousands converged toward the lcar floored lent where it was lo begin, came Ihe loud spea kered request to move to the sides. Space widened slowly, and presently they appeared, fifes and drums filling the air with the immortal nos (algia of "'Yankee Doodle" As they marched through toward the main tent, hundreds converged behind. Somehow, in that small band of men.

he nucleus of a nation As yesteryear's tunes reached their oars, Concord's Bicentennial came electrically alive. From consuls to carpenters, society women to students an awareness of Cue moment, an exhilration brightened faces as far as one could look. Only here and there were sad eyes, as though wishing Ihe stale of America's world, of America, herself, might he better. One very tiny lady in Colonial dress looked about her at Ihe crush in dismay, almost in fright, and in indignant frustration behind the solid phalanx of celebrants' backs between herself and the main tent, all she could see was lips of 1he muskets. For perhaps most attending, the same.

But few seemed dampened Beneath one's feet, Ihe floor vibrated, and one. becamn aware that, all around, caught up in the feel of (he music, Ihe memory of that historic march, the. crowd had begun quietly marching in pace to the music not stomping, just quietly marching llieir own personal march lo that long ago site of fi eedom's. birth. One noticed it most toward the presentation's end, when the Minutcmen struck up Ihe sprightly "Concord Muster," composed by very much alive fifer Lee Parker for the Bicentennial.

As dancing later resumed, couples found dancing in place largely imperative one cauld hardly move. BY LATE EVENING a crush of celebrants filled Ihe complex canvas to canvas. Name after name began'' being paged one learned later that, quietly, not to alarm the thousands within, key men were being called out there was trouble in lown. Within, Ihe hour was now at hand for the grand march an event destined to succeed somewhat less than Ihe Minulemrri's program. A sign, "Grand march line starts here It's I couples wide." went utterly unheeded.

Like an eddy of moving water in a slow moving stream, a block of marchers four couples wirtr tunnnlrd no space whatsoever on either side. Here and there, other "grand marchers" started up spontaneously. From a vantage point on the bandstand, at one point, two could be seen passing each other, side by side, going in opposite directions As the benevolent confusion subsided, Ihe "S1ar Spangled Banner" struck up, voices swelling to a volume which must have been heard for some distance through Concord. Meanwhile, across lawn at the Hawthorne School, a Y011II1 Bicentennial Bail was Inking place one of a series of cvcnls for Ihe town's youth heing sponsored by the Concord Bicentennial Committee for some seven months, athletic competitions among them. The eve of the Concord Bicentennial had its paradoxes, its moments of prayer and its broken windows, its gay regalia and its traffic jams, amid its recollections ol yesterday, its anticipations of tomorrow 5'JH SWi Wo it 1..