Our Town, in Full Voice
On Sunday, Veterans Gardens said, “Welcome home.”
Hundreds from the town came to our “Town Party” and “Opening Day of Bocce” returning to our park.
Our town found its voice again.
Ninety-six bocce players in their snappy whites were the stunning floor show for this special day.
Photos, like tall roses, ringed Veterans Gardens, telling a story of happy. Of joy. Of the face of our most prized possession. You.
Music was playing, drinks were flowing, everyone was enjoying tasty sandwiches and baby burgers …
The backdrop was so surreal.
Veterans Gardens was back, with fresh grass, with beautiful purple flowers standing at attention, and the picnic tables and benches shined up to welcome their town back home.
Yet, while surrounding the courts, lines of charred, black trees. Through them, all the barren, leveled lots surrounding our town park.
And we made a circle around the courts. All together. All as one.
And in the middle of that circle, Honorary Mayor Ted McGinley, and Rick Caruso, and Councilmember Traci Park spoke to what they were looking at—all around them. They spoke to the grace of a beautiful word …
Palisades.
——–
These are the words I shared in that moment.
“ … Many of us here today remember standing on these very courts, enjoying our league matches on a windy January 7 late morning.
Far, far away, at the top of the Highlands, we could see a small fire was brewing. And we never, in our wildest dreams, imagined what would transpire in the next 12 hours.
The lives of all 24,000 of us were turned upside down.
Veterans Gardens, and much of the park, and so many of the homes we can see from here—were destroyed.
A few weeks later, we set up makeshift courts with plastic tubing rails on the lawn bowling field on Wilshire in Santa Monica.
Matches were on mornings and at sunset on Thursdays with 160 Palisadians. After our sunset games, we’d pack O’Brien’s Irish Pub with Palisadians.
One thing I know. From all the towns we’ve been scattered to since that infamous night—people and their teams came every week. But really not for bocce.
For a yearning to be with each other—when we all needed it the most.
——–
About a month after we started the leagues, I saw the dearest 70-year-old woman, one of my favorites in the bocce family, walk through the gate of those courts—about 40 yards away. And standing alone on that grass—she broke down.
I walked over and hugged her, and she was crying hard.
She told me about the challenges beyond losing her home in the fire. How she hasn’t been emotionally ready to drive through the Palisades. How this was the first time—seeing anyone.
Through her tears, she said that looking at her teammates and friends on those courts reminded her of everything she missed in her town. Her beloved town.
——–
In these bocce leagues, something unexpected happens. And it’s happened to the thousand Palisadians who’ve played in the leagues over the past three years.
When a match ends, we don’t just shake hands. We hug each other. Teammates, opponents, we hug everyone.
And when we hug someone, we’re not hugging just them.
We’re hugging everything we’re grateful for in our town.
In that moment, we’re hugging our friends. And our family. And our schools, and our churches, and our synagogues. We’re holding on to the promise and possibilities of tomorrow.
That’s what today is about.
The purest joy of belonging. The treasure of the family we all share in our Palisades town.
And I wish you could all see what I’m seeing right now. The most beautiful painting in the world.
It reminds me of one of my favorite towns. Not sure what state it’s in.
Whoville.
Because even after the Grinch showed up one night and stole all their presents, leaving them with nothing, what did they do?
They gathered in their town, their beloved town, and they formed a circle. And they held hands, and they hugged each other.
They were grateful.
The fire stole so much from us that night.
But, Palisadians, here we are. Here we are.
Standing together in a circle. Holding each other’s hands. Hugging each other.
This is our town. Our home. Our time.”
——–
And then I asked everyone in the circle around the courts to hold hands, and to hug each other. And to join me in singing along to our “Palisades Song.” And they did. Oh, they did. Belting out the ending …
“Once in a while, I remember
How beautiful life is around me
With family and friends who surround me
The mountains—and the big blue sea
Lucky, lucky, lucky me!
I’m so happy I can say
We live in the greatest town…
Pacific Palisades”
There are moments in life you will always cherish.
This was one for me.
Sung by the most beautiful choir I have ever, ever heard.
Jimmy Dunne is a modern-day Renaissance Man; a hit songwriter (28 million hit records), screenwriter/producer of hit television series, award-winning author, an entrepreneur—and a Palisadian “Citizen of the Year.” You can reach him at j@jimmydunne.com or jimmydunne.substack.com.
This page is available to subscribers. Click here to sign in or get access.
