Following is an on-the-scene blog covering the Czech Days festival and parade in Tabor, S.D., written by students and faculty members of the American Indian Journalism Institute. A special thanks to Mark Povondra for his help in making this blog possible.
Red Horse
Frybread, Indian tacos and Czech Days don't seem to fit, but it makes sense to Nicomas Red Horse, a Lakota who moved to Tabor from Arizona last year.
In a tent-covered concession stand outside their house, Red Horse and her mother, Joy, sold cold drinks, frybread and Indian tacos.
Located near the parade's starting point, Red Horse's items draw lots of attention—and customers.
"I think we are the only Indians in Tabor," Red Horse said. "Most people haven't even heard of Indian tacos, but they like them."
De-ku-yu-vam
Some Czech Americans are trying to keep their language and culture alive in a similar way to Native Americans' attempts.
Katy Adam, 18, was last year's Czech Days queen, and she's giving up her title tonight.
During the parade, Adam stood with her grandmother, Loretta Kortan, in the shade on the sidewalk. Kortan helped Adam practice the correct Czech pronunciation of "thank you" and "enjoy yourselves." Adam plans to say them tonight.
"Thank you" in Czech sounds like "buf-te-si," and "enjoy yourselves" is pronounced like "de-ku-yu-vam." Kortan says she doesn't know how to spell the phrases, but these are the phonetic pronounciations.
Kortan won the pageant in 1958 and her sister won in 1966. Kortan says she is "very proud" of her granddaughter.
Czech Days Queen
The 1997 Czech Days Queen is back in town—and she's not alone.
Aesli Grandi, who grew up in Tabor, brought along a film crew to do a documentary about Czech Days. She says it will be released in about four months, but so far it's without a title.
"This place is special and I think the people need to know about it," Grandi says.
Deep Traditions
The 25 members of the O'Kolace Clan, as they call themselves, came to Tabor this year with a common goal: to celebrate life.
Mike Carney, the host of the parade, survived a severe form of cancer, and the family came to rejoice, says sister-in-law Veronica Gleason.
"Our family decided that if he made it to this point in the year everyone would come back here to celebrate," she says.
Gleason says she's been coming to the festival since she was 3. Her family in Tabor dates back to 1914.
"It is about honoring my grandparents and parents, who grew up right here," she says, referring to Czech Days. "It is a deep tradition for us."
Hot Sellers
A women's group from St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church made about 2,000 dozen kolaches for this year's parade. Some years, the women's kolaches earn $12,000.
"We always run out," Hejna says.
Hot and Humid
According to the National Weather Service, the temperature is 82 degrees with 55 percent humidity.
Two men carry a woman into the American Legion Hall, an apparent victim of the heat. She would not give her name.
She is gasping. "I can't feel my legs," she says.
"It's a hot, humid day today but that doesn't stop the people from coming," says Angie Johnson of Vermillion, a customer at the American Legion.
"Last year," says Casandra Kutilek, 22, also of Vermillion, "an old man fell over from heat stroke. They had to stop the parade to allow the ambulance to go through."
Super Squirters
Clowns on a float shoot bright yellow super squirters into the crowd, while others blow bubbles.
About four children chase the float to catch the bubbles.
Nearby, the air smells of smoke. Band members from Bon Homme toss accusations at each other of possible smoke bombs being lobbed.
With no smoking bombs, there was little evidence to back up their claims.
St. Wenceslaus Cemetery
At St. Wenceslaus Cemetery, Lawrence and Janet Kostal rest beneath the shade of a tree near the headstones for Lawrence's grandparents, Albert and Katherine Kostal.
The first-generation Czech farmers died nearly a century ago.
Lawrence grew up in Tabor and is in town for his 55th high school reunion, to be held Saturday.
Nearby, an older couple from Yankton, S.D., Lavonne Sykora and Russ Gorsett, talk of the future.
"We're all eventually going to end up here," Russ jokes.
Asked for a wedding date, he adds: "We have time."
Tabor Fire Department
The Tabor Fire Department, like other organizations in town, set up a food concession, selling pork sandwiches, hot dogs and drinks.
What if there's a fire?
"Ambulance and fire trucks head the parade, so they can be available for a call," says fireman Andrew Hejna.
Nitro Snaps
In a dark, paper-littered section of the parade route, a minor war is escalating as children on opposites side of the street toss Nitro Snaps at each other.
Snap, snap.
On one side of the firefight, a boy mocks a girl on the other side, grabbing an ankle and gyrating his hips wildly. The display prompts a similar demonstration from the girl.
And the war grinds on.
Altar Rosary Society
In Beseda Hall, parade-goers browse through rows upon rows of fruit-filled kolaches. Poppyseed, cottage cheese and prune kolaches seem to be the most popular flavors, but there are many others.
Char Kronaizl says all the kolaches sold here are made and donated by women in the town.
The Altar Rosary Society set up the food- and kolache-serving areas, Kronaizl said.
Last year, Czech Days have more than 2,100 dozen kolaches, says Barbara Shainholtz.
"I don't know if we made a new record this year," Kronaizl says.
Sloopy, Sloopy
A whistle toots, and a marching band's snare drums rattle. The first recognizable song of the Czech Day Parade is "Hang on, Sloopy, Sloopy, hang on." Hey, we all speak Czech.
Wilber Alumni Band
"A handful" of musicians from the Wilber, Neb., Alumni Band drove to Tabor to take part in the parade for the first time in 59 years, band director Duane Jorgensen says.
Why would Wilber come? Wilber calls itself the National Czech Capital.
Kolaches
Farther down the route, families await the parade convoy, sitting in lawn chairs. Other people load up on kolaches, a Bohemian pastry.
The kolaches are sold by the dozen and come in as many as 10 flavors, including cottage cheese, creme cheese, rhubbarb, poppy seed and prunes.
Terry Vellek, a Sioux Falls resident, brought his wife Vickie for her first Czech Day experience.
"The kolaches here are all homemade," Vellek says. "Some local ladies make hundreds and hundreds all in different flavors."
A Single Rifleshot
The parade starts with a single rifleshot, followed by flag-carrying veterans, ambulances, firetrucks and plenty of children holding plastic grocery sacks awaiting the inevitable torrent of free candy.
Kostel Funeral Home
People line up outside Kostel Funeral Home, and they look happy to be there.
The sidewalk in front of the funeral home offers shade--the temperature feels like 90, with high humidity--and a ringside seat to the parade starting area.
An added bonus: Next door is the American Legion, selling "the best food in town," says one customer as she walks out the front door.
For sale: Taverns, chili dogs, 50-cent kolaches, chicken noodle soup and coconut creme pie.
Outside, one road of the intersection is blocked with a "Road Closed" barrier, and taped to it is a white sign that says in black letters: "PLEASE TAKE NOTICE! Filming of a motion picture is taking place beyond this sign and in this area."
Another sign catches the eye: "Indian Tacos," not something one would expect to see in a Czech festival.