I had moved between bands and divisions during the second-line, but from Claiborne Avenue on I decided to stay behind the Hot 8 Brass Band, who were keeping the groove with an intensity that belied how hot and tired they had to be. Past a Church’s Fried Chicken, we swung around onto Martin Luther King, a divided thoroughfare that used to be called Melpomene. The street wasn’t as wide as Claiborne, and the crowds were thick on both sides. Some had parked in the neutral ground, or set up folding chairs there, and one man had set up a barbecue grill and was selling food. The smell drifted invitingly over the parade route. 

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