‘We had our first Mass down at Cletus Early’s Plumbing.’

Our Lady of the Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Sun Valley turns 50 this year, in itself a distinction that is worthy enough of notice in a town that seems compelled to stamp out and replace its institutions every generation or so.

Yet some say the permanence of that East Valley parish is only a reflection of the equally enduring tradition of madness that visits each year, like a midsummer night’s dream.

Through war, the baby boom and recent social transformations, Our Lady of the Holy Rosary has never missed a Fiesta.

This weekend was its 50th. As tradition demands, uncounted thousands of parishioners swarmed over the Vineland Avenue church grounds Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Until almost 11 each night they played bingo, threw darts and rings for prizes, ate tacos and barbecued beef, drank beer, listened to a band play religious music with a country and salsa flavor, and even dunked Father Mike.

“Certainly for the last 40 years this is the biggest thing that hits Sun Valley,” said Jim Harvey, a tall and slender man.

Harvey wore a Holy Rosary chef’s apron and a blue Holy Rosary hat. He and a crew of youngsters were manning the barbecue pits behind the church. Under two heavy iron doors, 1,400 pounds of beef cooked over three cords of wood.

The numbers haven’t always been so grand.

“Now when we started, it wasn’t anything like this,” said Ted Thomann, another slender man wearing a Holy Rosary hat. He was in a small office where he shared the duties of announcer with several other volunteers.

Thomann was chairman of the Fiesta in ‘49, ’50 and ’53. In the early days, he said, it was called a bazaar and lasted only a day. But it nurtured the church.

“When the parish came out here, we didn’t have anything,” Thomann said. “We had our first Mass down at Cletus Early’s Plumbing.”

The first church was built on the corner of Vineland Avenue and Ratner Street, a piece of land donated by the Ratner family of Roscoe Hardware, Thomann said.

There were pictures of that church with its country-style steeple in the Jubilee Room, put together for the 50th Fiesta by Dale and Mary Hiscocks. One showed it on a day in 1947, covered with four inches of snow. There were pictures also of the new church going up in 1965 on the corner of Vineland Avenue and Stagg Street.

The Hiscockses come from the second generation of the Holy Rosary parish.

“We had seven children go through school here,” Mary Hiscocks said.

“We came from Iowa,” Dale Hiscocks said. “Both of us. April ’48. I had just gotten out of the service.”

Their children’s generation produced the first priest to be ordained from within the parish, Father Frank Russo Jr. His picture also hung on the wall. Russo, now assigned to a parish in Claremont, was expected Sunday but hadn’t arrived yet.

A founding member was also awaited. She was Martha Early, Cletus Early’s wife, who is 90.

She sewed a large stained-glass window quilt to be raffled.

“Mrs. Early makes a quilt every year,” said Barbara Kouri, manager of the country store and sewing room, where the quilt was on display beside other homemade goods, rosaries and pictures of Jesus.

“The stitches are rather large because she can’t see very well,” Kouri said. “This is going to be the last one.”

Outside, on the blacktop, the crowd grew denser as the heat eased Sunday afternoon. Spanish words floated prominently in the air, identifying the newest generation of Holy Rosary.

A broadly smiling man in an open-necked shirt moved through the crowd, patting children on the head and exchanging pleasantries in an Irish brogue. He was Father Tom Jordan, on loan to the parish from an Irish order.

Across the yard, in the auditorium, built by the proceeds of past Fiestas, Frank Russo, father of the priest, was preparing to serve his 26th Fiesta dinner.

One of the first diners was Marilyn Sinatra, chairman of the 50th Fiesta.

Just then, Father Russo, a bear of a man in a short-sleeve black shirt, walked in. He began to work his way around. Each person stood to receive his embrace.

“I’ve been working principally with the divorced,” he confided to Sinatra, sitting down to chat. “A lot of counseling, a lot of tears--’You, me and Jesus, we’ll make it.’ ”

Inevitably, they talked Fiestas. Sinatra teased the priest about the rumor that his parish was wealthy enough to hire professionals to do run its fiesta.

“Somebody has to serve the wealthy,” he said with a shrug.

He had a tip on a new game.

“We’ve got a little mouse,” he said. “It runs down a hole. Oh, it raises money like crazy.”

Holy Rosary’s hottest game Sunday was a quick one, when Father Mike O’Brien sat in the dunking booth, usually manned by parish children.

The price went up from three balls for a dollar to $2 apiece.

“Boy, we made a fortune off of him,” Sinatra said.

At 10:30 p.m. Sunday, the yard was still packed when the announcers ordered the food booths and games closed.

Eva Pilien was announced as winner of the sweepstakes prize, a new Dodge.

Martha Early didn’t make it this year. Next year’s chairman will be Louie Cantos.

Holy Rosary is about $60,000 richer today. The money will be spent on the school.