Tightly clenching a can of paint, Vernon Rolle stretches his tattoo into a Rorschach blotch across his bulging bicep. Rolle's powerful arms justify his position as director of the bass section even though his junkanoo career began just three years ago. They need plenty endurance for that. Judged on both volume and synchronization, the music resounds with 50 bass drummers and equal numbers beating tom tom, clanging bells, and blowing fog horns. And when you get out on Bay Street, you get a totally different sound.
Music comes off the buildings.
Close behind, the dancers in the yellow zone strike a warrior's pose, then rotate at the waist, drawing arcs from Heaven to Earth with their white feathered headdresses. One Family has it won. A few hours later, in the heat of the sun, the Davis Shack hosts a sleepless celebration. The opulence of the costumes now piled against the wall contrasts sharply with the dilapidated buildings and mangy dogs roaming along Taylor Street. We didn't want our involvement with the people still here to end with the parade.