Gasparilla Before There Were Beads

I was born and raised in Tampa. My childhood home was on Channel Drive, on Davis Islands, along the main shipping channel. The mock-pirate invasion of Tampa known as Gasparilla was something I looked forward to each year. Even though I now live across the bay, on St. Pete Beach, I haven’t missed a Gasparilla invasion in 54 years.

While the celebration was founded in 1904, the pirate’s ship, named Jose Gaspar, was not built until 1954, the year of my birth. The invasion passed in front of our house each year, we had reserved seats for the parade on Bayshore Boulevard, and we almost always watched the night parade in Ybor City, where both my parents worked and I attended elementary school.

Nothing ever stays the same, and that is true for Gasparilla, too. For decades, the invasion and parade took place on the first Monday in February. It was a school holiday for children in Tampa. Many businesses closed as well. It seemed huge to us, it was family-friendly, and it was our event.

There was never any doubt that Tampa’s wealthy civic leaders, dressed as pirates, had been drinking. We later came to recognize that Ye Mystic Krewe of Gasparilla discriminated, was exclusionary, and all those bad things they have largely outgrown. Actually, come to think of it, I did miss Gasparilla in 1991 because the Krewe cancelled the event, rather than integrate. With Superbowl XXV in town, the city hastily put on something called Bamboleo. It was a huge, embarrassing bust, and a black eye for my home town.

Other than that, there have always been boats and parade floats and marching bands and important people sitting in antique cars and convertibles, waving warmly to happy crowds. As kids, we covered our ears as the pirates fired their guns in the air (blanks, of course), and then ran to catch the gun shells they threw to the pavement. If we were particularly lucky, they threw a gold doubloon. My collection of doubloons, which I still have today, was my most prized possession.

There were no beads.

In 1988, to make the event accessible to far more people, Gasparilla was moved to the first Saturday in February, (unless Tampa was hosting the Superbowl, in which case they rescheduled it to accommodate the game). Many new krewes of all stripe and color now participate, symbolizing that Tampa embraces diversity like it never did before. Southwest Airlines became the event’s “name sponsor,” and companies that produce alcoholic beverages seem to play an ever-increasing role in making the event possible. Many residents along or near Bayshore Boulevard have grown to dread the day.

Oh, and almost everyone throws beads now.

Most people attending Gasparilla today would probably think the absence of beads was the denial of some basic human right suffered during barbaric times. Maybe we just didn’t know what we were missing, but we all seemed happy, just the same. Those of us who remember those days, roughly prior to 1986, can’t help but notice the influence beads have on today’s Gasparilla. To be honest, it’s a mixed blessing. Like an invasive species of plant, there’s good and bad. Pretty to look at, but you can’t get rid of them. Beads are here to stay.

There is certainly joy in both giving and receiving. Beads have become the great equalizer for many. The giving is no longer limited to pirates. As hundreds of boats pass by the seawall, many on board throw beads to the glee of spectators. I often witness grown men and women making fools of themselves to attract a throw. Often, I see those catching the beads quickly share them with children and senior citizens around them, experiencing both the joy of receiving and giving at the same time. It’s a good thing.

The competition for beads also brings out the worst in many people. Greed and a lack of consideration for others is the obvious culprit, but I think it goes deeper than that. People who are particularly competitive about attracting or catching beads invariably inconvenience those around them. Small children and elderly spectators frequently fear for their safety or grow weary of the repeated yelling for beads. For too many, it’s no longer about enjoying the show...it’s about getting something for nothing. While I still come to see the invasion, that’s largely why I quit attending the parade 20 years ago.

It gets worse. Along the seawall, some come armed to pay back those who don’t reward their call for beads. Maybe they are envious and resentful of the boaters’ good fortune. Too often, I see water balloons thrown at passengers in passing boats. And, in turn, I often see those passengers fire back with water balloons. Understandably, it is more difficult to throw something accurately from a moving boat. This is when it really begins to quit being as much fun for the rest of us.

Please let me be the last person to deny others their fun at Gasparilla. We all need all the fun we can get. Like I said, nothing stays the same and beads are here to stay. The obvious charge I am guilty of is getting older and nostalgic. Personally, I don’t think I’m any less fun. I definitely plan to return next year for my 55th Gasparilla invasion.

And I will always have my doubloons and childhood memories from before there were beads.

You are invited to see 36 of my favorite 2009 Gasparilla photos on the Parsons-Wilson Picasa site.