Prologue: Parade

Photo & Graphic by Annie Wilson

5AM - Friday, October 31, 2014

SFPD Northern Station

The women’s locker room always feels dank at this hour. A little too quiet, a little too stark. Jean Hagen put her baton and Sig Sauer into their holsters, and clipped her radio remote to the shoulder epaulette, shutting her locker with a bang. A discarded, well-thumbed copy of The Chronicle was on the opposite bench with the word “Dynasty” in 500 point type across the top, and a subheadline about Madison Bumgarner winning game 7 of the series for the Giants’ third title in five years. Just following the series had made it a stressful week for everyone.

Checking her phone a final time she saw the red notification of new texts. They came in last night, but she ignored them, instead focusing on the party atmosphere at Zeki’s Bar on California. It was her new local, and since a high school friend Danny Cavanaugh was the new owner, she was an ardent supporter. Sighing, with a few minutes before shift, she opened the texts.  

“Morning Jeannie.” Stephanie Choy, an academy classmate and perpetually chipper friend, sped in to hand off a Starbucks.

“Oh my God, I love you.” 

“I knew that.”

“What’s happening?”

“Some texts from Chris I decided not to read last night, so reading them now right before work.” Jeannie’s sarcasm didn’t even fool herself. She took a seat on the locker room bench and heaved a sigh.

“Are you guys talking? What does he want?”

“No, we haven’t been talking, but I guess that probably needs to happen.” Jeannie looked at her phone and clicked it off. “It won’t be happening today.” She chuckled at her friend.

“Yeah, but like, are you going to figure out what to say to him? I mean, where do you stand?”

“Me? I dunno. We’re strangers right now. But, I’d venture - big picture - he probably wants a house in St Francis Wood, 3 kids in St Brendan’s and a wife in the PTA.” Jeannie looked down. Stephanie’s face was rueful but sympathetic.

“Well, you don’t have to deal with it now unless he’s going to be on parade.”

“Exactly.” Jeannie chuckled. The idea of her high-powered M&A-attorney ex-boyfriend (maybe still boyfriend?) being on parade was too incongruous to imagine. They got up to head into the briefing room, almost to the minute. 

“Where do you think we’ll be today?”

“Someplace boring, like sweeping up the confetti and elephant poop after everyone’s gone.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

The two friends rush into the briefing room and get seats near the back. The room is more full than usual as everyone was called in for overtime to cover the parade. Everyone except Jeannie and Steph, and anyone else who’d graduated from the academy within the last year. No overtime for them, just regular hours.

“I didn’t see you at Abbey Tavern for the game - where did you watch?” Steph whispered.

“I stayed home at watched with my Dad.” Jeannie said quietly, looking at her friend. Steph gave her an encouraging smile.

The coffee is exactly what Jeannie needed - she reminded herself to get Steph a coffee some morning. Today’s hangover isn’t bad, but it’s there. The whole city has been a non-stop party for the last 36 hours and it will likely continue all weekend with Halloween and the general excitement. 

“Morning.” The Sergeant began calmly, immediately shutting down the cross-chatter. “Once again, we will be celebrating our San Francisco Giants in a World Series parade today.” The whole room sent up cheers and applause. “If you were here for 2010 and 2012, you know the routine. If you have not been assigned a team bus or car escort, you will be on crowd watch. That means you WATCH the crowd and if you see anything remotely out of the ordinary, say something. The Boston Marathon bombing was last year and we all know what that looked like and we will not let something like that happen here on today of all days.” Everyone shifted from jubilation to  discomfort, images of the blast cutting through the Boston crowd vivid in mind. “So, strange packages, unattended backpacks, people sitting or standing in places where they should not be…you warn them once. If they don’t move it along, you call in someone else to get them to move. Keep us all informed. Apart from the player buses, there will be dignitaries on the parade route today: Mayor Lee, Governor Brown, Lt Governor Newsom, Minority Leader Pelosi, and everyone has their family with them. This means, spouses, kids, grandparents. It is our job to keep everyone safe and smiling. Weather will be generally unpleasant: misty rain and chilly for most of the time. This is not expected to deter the crowds. This is a celebration and we want everyone to have a fun time. Eyes open, friendly faces, but take no shit. Apart from foot patrols, we will have the Yamaha and Mounted units out as well. You won’t see them, but there will also be sniper units on some rooftops as a precaution. All hands. No mistakes. Understood.”

“YES SIR.” The room echoed in unison.

As expected, Jeannie and Steph were assigned standing positions on Market Street, right on the lane line. “Parade Rest” - meaning, feet hips’ width apart with weight evenly balanced. Formally, it would also mean with hands tucked into the low back with palms facing outward, but that’s for the military. Everyone put their hands on their belts or something like it, resting them on top of a radio or the hilt of the nightstick. Jeannie thought the term “rest” was also a misnomer; there’s nothing restful about Parade Rest, in fact, it’s an active stillness. 

The two stood roughly 15 feet apart facing the famous One Bush Plaza building where Market crosses Battery Street. The first International Style building in San Francisco and built in 1959 by Skidmore Owings and Merrill, it was still perfect in its mid-century glory. Jeannie’s Dad always loved this building, especially the strange round side structure with the scalloped roof that was part of the property. Standing between the crowd on the sidewalks and the parade floats and cars moving down the center of Market, Jeannie and Steph were in for the long haul until the very last part of the parade had passed. Then, they’d form a walking “wall” of police and follow the last vehicles, keeping the crowds separate until the parade arrived at Civic Center Plaza. In the meantime, it was all about watching the crowd. 

Everything before Jeannie’s eyes was moving. It wasn’t just the crowds behind the stanchions on the sidewalks, but also those in the One Bush Building. The office workers were filling the windows all the way up to the 20^th floor. People in every kind of Giants garb, orange and black, bits of Halloween costumes, tinsel, face paint, and plastic ponchos to keep the rain off. The sky was filled with paper confetti flying everywhere, even in the rainy mist which made it stick to everything. It flew and swirled and finally settled on people’s hair, shoulders, and finally the ground. Every cop was covered in it. The paper swirled with the rain, which swirled with the people, the music, the cheers, the orange foam fingers saying that the Giants were “Number 1!” All of the movement almost made it easier to concentrate. If anything stood too still for too long it would jump out into Jeannie’s field of vision. 

A little boy was sitting on his Dad’s shoulders in a yellow rain coat with a little Giant’s hat on his head. He had his hands folded over his Dad’s matching Giants hat, while the Dad held his ankles just above his orange Nikes. The kid kept staring at Jeannie and making funny faces to see if she’d crack. Despite herself, she felt the corners of her mouth turning upward. It was turning out to be a good day.

Steph and Jeannie made it back to the station around 5pm, giving them both two hours of overtime, and still an evening to join in some of the fun. 

“Should we go for a beer?” Steph offered, as she dashed out of the shower.

“Oh, that would be fun, but I’m pretty beat.” Jeannie acknowledged. “And I have first shift tomorrow too, so I should probably cool it tonight.” She combed through her damp hair and pulled a clean t-shirt on over her jeans. 

“Fair enough - I’m off tomorrow thank God!”

“Are you back on Sunday? I’ll get us coffee.” 

“Yeah, I think so…hopefully it will be quiet.” Steph said. 

“Hopefully.” 

The two walked out of the station together, running into the Sergeant at the desk. 

“Choy, Hagen - good work today. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Thank you sir.” They said almost in unison. 

“Hagen - we didn’t see you at the game on Wednesday night.”

“No, sir, I watched the game with my Dad.”

“Ah - how is the judge?” The Sergeant asked. “Give him my regards.”

“I certainly will, sir.” Jeannie said through a tight smile. 

Jeannie arrived at the Park Lane around 6pm with a six pack of Miller High Life and a bag of Chinese food. A Combination dumpling assortment with Mongolian beef and the house chow mein. Greeting the doorman, she zipped into the elevator and up to the third floor. The front door was unlocked, so she slid inside and dropped her bag in her room off of the main hallway, next to the kitchen where she dropped the Chinese food. 

Making her way into the den, she heard the sounds of the evening news on KPIX covering the parade excitement. She walked into the room slowly and saw her Dad in his chair, with his nurse Langi in the chair next to him. Fergus, his old Irish wolfhound was on his well-worn plaid bed in the corner.

“Well, this looks like a party.” Jeannie said at the door.

“Ah! We wondered if you would be home soon!” Langi cried in her lilting Tongan accent. She got up and greeted Jeannie, giving her the chair next to her Dad. 

“Here I am…” Jeannie bent to kiss her Dad on the forehead. “Langi do you have plans tonight? It’s starting to get busy out there.”

“I’m going to my sister’s - the kids have a party tonight, so I want to see all the costumes!” She was already shrugging into her coat. “Okay Mr Pete - I’ll see you on Monday. Clara is here at 8 for the weekend.”

Peter Hagen, gave a slight nod from his chair, his eyes bright. Langi left quickly and Jeannie smiled at her Dad. It was Dad’s shift change. His full-time care changed off for the weekend, to help him with bathing, the bathroom, getting in and out of bed. It was expensive, but her father’s dignity would never have allowed her to do any of those things for him.

“Can I fix you a cocktail?” She offered. He smiled with his eyes, pulling out his iPad from the side pocket of his chair. He began to type and handed her the iPad so she could read it. 

“Not for me, but you go ahead.” It was their little joke. Her father’s drinking days were long over. Jeannie went into the kitchen and pulled one of the High Life bottles out, cracking it open. Remembering her mother’s rule that “young women shouldn’t drink beer from bottles”, she pulled a high ball glass down from the cabinet and poured  the beer in at an angle. 

Returning to the den, she peeked out the window at Nob Hill and Huntington Square below. The Fairmont and Mark Hopkins hotels, even the Cathedral were all lit up with orange lighting to celebrate the Giants and Halloween simultaneously. She looked at her Dad who was watching her. He began to type again.

“How was the parade?” He wrote.

“Oh you know. Kind of boring. But I was crowd watching under your favorite building - One Bush. A kid kept making funny faces at me.” He smiled slightly in response. Fergus had gotten to his feet and came over to sit in front of Jeannie with a wag, his big head almost blocking the TV. 

“A pretty exciting day.” He wrote. Jeannie knew how proud he was of the Giants; after a lifetime of waiting, they had their third championship in five years.

“Yes. And the Sergeant wanted me to give you his regards.”

“He doesn’t know.” He wrote, a slight alarm appearing on his face. 

“No, he knows nothing.” Jeannie said gently, rubbing Ferg’s wiry soft ears. “No one knows, Dad.” Relief appeared in his eyes. It was the family secret. The Honorable Peter Hagen, lauded and respected former juvenile court judge of San Francisco, had had a debilitating stroke that last spring, leaving him almost immobile and silent.