This was the year when the audience fought back! Alerted by clerks at the Island's three grocery stores that those intending to be in the Parade had bought an unprecedented amount of candy to fling at the spectators, they decided to end their decades-long policy of turning the other cheek. A quick phone call to the mainland and a hurriedly- arranged special flight produced a hundred pounds of sweet ammunition. As the intrepid parade wended its way down Main Street, with its multiple clans (Hannons, Turners, Evans) playing their recordings of the Boychoir, the signal was given by a sleek, low-flying airplane: when it rolled its wings, feet were planted and up and down the lane two hundred hands dipped into pockets and pulled out wrapped candies of every description to hurl at the surprised float riders. "We wound up with more candy than we started with in the truck," one member of the parade announced. "We had to use our water cannons to defend ourselves," another complained. The Ambassador from Hog Island, a regular participant, had to roll up his windows, creating a hothouse effect in his Suburban. Judging by the cries of satisfaction on the part of the spectators, this unpredictable revenge of the traditional candy pummeling was a satisfying success!