Enjoying His Ride in the Parade

My Fourth of July began as it always has the past 13 years, with the sound of someone singing the National Anthem coming through our second-story bedroom window in the Alphabet streets. I looked at my clock and, as usual, it was about 8:15 a.m., just moments before the Will Rogers 5K/10 K runs began at the Recreation Center. Fortunately, given our staffing responsibilities at the Palisadian-Post, I could stay in bed and not worry about rushing down to the park to cover this popular community event; sports editor Steve Galluzzo is somehow always there, along with our staff photographer, Rich Schmitt. I spent a leisurely morning before setting out for work at noon, armed with only a pen and my trusty Professional Reporter’s Notebook. I had walked less than a block, to the corner of Fiske and Albright, when I took my first notes. Our friend Harrison Sommer was out in front of his house, fresh from running the 5K with his wife Pam’and all six of their children, plus one son-in-law. “This is the day that defines the Palisades and our community,” Sommer noted, as he talked about walking to the afternoon parade and then later walking to the fireworks show at Palisades High. After walking down Swarthmore to Sunset, past the bustling lunch crowd at Terri’s and Mort’s, I met longtime resident Eileen Cassidy, whose red-nose pit bull, Dawn, had walked in the parade with dozens of other Patriotic Pups since 1997. “This is the first time I’ve dressed her up,” said Cassidy, who had obtained a black tank top with red, white and blue sequins and a patriotic rhinestone collar from Nevicella, the town’s new canine outfitter. When I reached the pre-parade VIP luncheon in the Methodist Church patio, a short walk from the parade’s starting point at Bowdoin, I was a prepared for a relaxed hour of socializing and note-taking. But instead, the place was buzzing, following the unexpected arrival of Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, who really knows how to work a picnic. As Bill Prachar, the parade’s one and only clown, honked his Clarabell horn in the background, Villaraigosa explained how he squeezed the parade into his busy schedule. “I attended the Sunland/Tujunga parade this morning’the first mayor to do so in 40 years’and when I saw that your parade wasn’t on my schedule, I told my people I wanted to come by and say hello. Next year I hope to be here in the parade.” Listening nearby, newly-inaugurated City Councilman Bill Rosendahl said, “I’ll make sure he’s here.” Normally, after covering the VIP picnic, I go outside to watch the skydivers descend at about 2 p.m. and then begin walking the parade route. This year, I had a free ride in a 1966 Bonneville Cadillac convertible, thanks to winning a Community Service Award from the Community Council last December. I was joined by my friend Carol Hurley, a co-founder of the Palisades AARP chapter 10 years ago and a quietly dedicated provider for numerous ill and housebound seniors throughout the community. Our driver was Joseph Nohejl of Duarte, who said he hires out for about 30 parades a year, including the Lompoc Flower Festival, the Big Bear Old Miners Day, the Los Angeles Chinese Golden Dragon Parade, and the Pasadena Black History Parade. When I reached the car, I saw Ed Lowe, the Post’s Graphics Director, cutting away at our Community Service Award sign. He had noticed that the sign read Bill BURNS, so he was rearranging the letters to keep Two Cents callers from chortling at the misspelling. We took off in the car at 2:35 p.m., sandwiched between the Bellflower High School Band and the Colegio de Bachilleres band. The breeze was at our back, the sun was shining, and the crowd was in a festive mood as we worked our way down Via de la Paz, waving to friends and strangers with our tiny American flags. When we turned the corner at Sunset, we had a stunning view of the parade ahead of us and both sides of the street lined with spectators all the way to Drummond. “There’s Walt, my cardiologist,” Carol explained at one point. “There’s Joe, my barber,” I responded moments later when I saw Joe Almarez waving from his parade chair. “What a kick,” Carol said.