Town Welcomes Home Its Golden Champ

With all the rejoicing, however, came some heavy logistical challenges.

When the county contacted Kirchmayr about making chocolate medals in honor of the occasion, he had a vision: elegant little boxes of chocolate gold medals that Phelps could toss into the parade crowds, estimated at more than 30,000 people.

Then came the worries about the packaging littering the streets and of class action lawsuits that could result from people hit by chocolates tossed by a multimillionaire sports icon. So they settled for cellophane bags with commemorative coins, which volunteers passed out by hand yesterday.

"People will still enjoy it, I think," Kirchmayr said cheerfully. His primary intent remained untouched, he said, which was to give something to the champ that he could give back to the people.

"I've never met him," said the 53-year-old chocolatier, "but being in the neighborhood while all the Olympics were happening, you felt like you knew him, like he lived next door, like he was always part of your life."

Darlene Castle, co-owner of the diner where Phelps ate many of his legendary big breakfasts, closed early yesterday and showed up at the parade with an 18-foot-long banner. Marching with her were two longtime customers dressed in chicken and egg suits, and a dozen children to whom she taught cheers especially penned for the occasion. Her favorite detailed Phelps's 3,000-calorie breakfast special:

"Two sandwiches, a bowl of grits/French toast, hot cakes with chocolate chips/Western omelet with homefries/Michael's stomach is as big as his eyes."

"I promised the kids free T-shirts and breakfast for carrying the banner," Castle said. "We got so much publicity from him eating at our place, we just really wanted to honor and give back to him."

Phelps's story contains a universal kernel of inspiration, said Cadigan, a coach who spent his morning lining up more than 100 children and teenagers from the aquatic club to march in the parade. "You point to him, and you can tell kids that he trained here, that he worked hard, that he did things the right way. And good things happened."

"The reason this whole parade is such a big deal is it's our first chance to really welcome him home," said Cathy Bennett, 57, a family friend who taught Phelps to swim as a child. "He's been around the world and back, and he still wants to come back to settle down here. It makes you realize what this town means to him, and what he means to us."