With sequins and glitter, music and pageantry, the nation’s oldest folk parade strutted through downtown Philadelphia on Thursday, delighting thousands who lined Broad Street despite fierce, damaging, and bitter winds.
Over 125 years, there have been weather events — postponements because of cold, rain and snow and, in 2021, a COVID cancellation. But for the first time in Mummers history, one part of the parade was suspended.
The popular String Band Division called off its competition because of punishing winds that destroyed props and sent five people to the hospital early Thursday morning during parade setup. Each of the 14 string bands marched later Thursday, playing music in costumes and makeup, but solely for entertainment purposes and not with their planned routines.
A full string band competition, with judges and routines the clubs have spent a full year devising and practicing, will happen on a yet-to-be-determined date, after logistics and finances are worked out.
Still, the 2026 parade was quintessentially Philadelphia — not perfect, but full of heart-on-its-sleeve scrappiness.
Ryan Echols, president of the Hegeman String Band, said the group had shortened its performance and packed up props due to the gusty wind, but still came to play.
“The parade still goes on, regardless,” said Echols. “We’re still here to perform for the city of Philadelphia.”
The cancellation had thrown a wrench in the day, said Nick Magenta, captain of the Polish American String Band.
“You get used to all these years — how the parade goes, how the morning goes,” he said. “When you have something like those, it kind of throws you off your focus.”
Still, Mummer morale remained high, he said.
“You can’t change it, regardless,” said Magenta. “Everyone is just looking forward to being out here and celebrating the new year.”
‘Things were just being ripped out of our hands’
String band officials saw the forecasts: possible snow squalls and wind gusts early Thursday morning. They monitored forecasts hour by hour.
But in the 5 a.m. reality of readying “a mobile Broadway show,” it quickly became apparent that they were not gusts, but, on Broad Street, sustained 30-mile-per-hour winds. As clubs set up their elaborate props, five people sustained injuries that sent them to the hospital. Some clubs had important set pieces destroyed.
“We did everything precaution-wise — sandbags and all of that,” said Sam Regalbuto, president of the Philadelphia Mummers String Band Association. “But as they were trying to assemble, things were just being ripped out of our hands.”
Regalbuto quickly called a meeting of association delegates, and the consensus was to suspend the competition but still march. Only a little differently, not putting anyone at a disadvantage, because several bands had lost key pieces of their show.
Even into the afternoon, winds were still brisk, with temperatures in the 30s. (Cold temperatures are scheduled to continue into the weekend.)
“We’ve lost sets, we’ve lost props that we’ve worked 365 days to put together to bring you the best possible string band spectacular that we do every year,” he said. “It was very hard for all of us, as a unit, to make this decision.”
After the last Comic Divisions finished, it was showtime for the strings, with Duffy String Band leading off.
Crowds seemed unfazed by the amended show. Some Mummers wore beanies instead of their typical elaborate headpieces.
A jubilant Mayor Cherelle L. Parker’s spirits were undimmed by the changes.
“I want you to remember how much time, energy, and practice and effort goes into preparing,” Parker said. “Don’t forget about the generations of families who are here. We are proud, and this is our Philly tradition.”
‘Our thing, together’
Dressed in handmade, bedazzled Colonial-era costumes, Joe Bongard, 47, and his teenage daughter, Lucy, were the first Mummers to march.
By parade time, it had almost seemed like they hadn’t slept in days, the Bongards said. Father and daughter had been preparing since September.
In the final hours before Parade Day, Lucy sewed her bejeweled and sparkled red-white-and-blue Colonial-era woman’s costume. Meanwhile, her father, who is in his first year as captain of Golden Sunrise Fancy Club, applied finishing touches to his Ben Franklin outfit and practiced his knee step for the dance routine.
Poised in the warming glow of the television cameras, their patriotic sequins and feathers rustling in the icy wind, Joe and Lucy Bongard said this is what they love to do.
“It’s our thing, together,” Joe Bongard said.
Proudly watching her husband and daughter from the grandstand, Erika Bongard laughed when she said that, for her, the Mummers Parade represented something else entirely. “Honestly for me, lots of cleaning, because there is sequins and glitter everywhere for months,” she said, recording as Joe and Lucy began to strut and dance to Rocky theme song “Gonna Fly Now,” officially kicking things off.
“Clearly, Lucy got her rhythm from me, and not Joe,” said Erika Bongard, beaming about her daughter’s smooth steps.
Nearby, Ellie Jozefowski, 75, fought back tears as she strutted in a sequined Flyers jacket. The tears come easily every year for Jozefowski, a parade veteran of more than three decades.
Thursday was no different. They flowed freely as four generations of Jozefowskis marched together for Golden Sunrise, including Ellie’s 7-month-old grandson, Peter, bundled up in a cheesesteak costume and carried by his mother, Molly.
“I’m crying because I’m happy!” shouted Ellie Jozefowski.
Farther back in line, Mummer Brian Creamer, of South Philly, shivered over his coffee. His young daughter, Amita, also a Mummer, had helped him bejewel his pirate king costume. He would not miss it for the cold or the wind, he said.
“It’s about spreading the new year joy,” he said.
Even farther back, wenches Ricky Dinaro, 35, and his pal, Anthony Putnick, warmed themselves on the regenerative powers of Miller Lite.
They’d been born into the parade, they said, and marched all their lives. They had been drinking for hours.
“I stayed up all night,” said Putnick, of the MGK Outsiders NYB.
Others had found their way into the longest-running continuous folk parade.
Cheyenne Cohen, of Golden Sunrise, grew up in Northern California before joining the Mummers three years ago after she moved to Philly. There was nothing like the Mummers in Santa Cruz, she said, adding that she now also works at the Mummers Museum in South Philly.
“Absolutely, the most welcoming community,” she said of her sequined and feathered found family.
It was a parade of firsts for the Mummers of the Philadelphia Chinese Community Organization United troupe.
Celebrating its inaugural year, the Chinatown Mummers danced traditional Chinese folk dances, which many members practiced late nights after their restaurant jobs.
“We want to welcome people to Chinatown and show our culture,” said member Holly Ming.
In the crowded grandstands, new and old fans shivered.
Kenzie McBride thought what better year to score front-row grandstand seats for her stepmother, Jennifer Smithson, than the 125th anniversary?
Smithson, bundled in a blanket, approved.
“It’s been on my bucket list,” she said.
And though some would-be parade-goers stayed home because of the string band news, plenty came out to enjoy the iconic parade anyway.
In the grandstands as darkness fell, Patrick Finnegan, 46, of Oreland, danced with his son, Dylan, 6, on his shoulders. His 8-year-old twins, Arielle and Melody, were by his side.
It was the first time he had brought the kids to the parade.
The cancellations didn’t affect their fun, Finnegan said.
“It’s all about riding the train downtown to see the Mummers,” Finnegan said, mid-strut. “My wife thinks I’m crazy.”
