6,000 Proudly Parade San Juan Capistrano’s Heritage

Moments before climbing into the gray horse-drawn carriage parked on El Camino Real, Juanita Rios-Foy reminisced about the first time that residents of this historic community decided to have a parade.

It consisted of three carts, bedecked with flowers, and a handful of participants who walked from her family’s adobe house to the nearby grounds of the Mission San Juan Capistrano.

“It took more time to prepare the carts than to walk to the mission,” said Rios-Foy, 77, the city’s matriarch.

On Saturday, residents repeated that once-modest parade past the mission for the 32nd time.

But unlike that first short walk, about 6,000 participants marched more than a mile through the town center to mark the end of the weeklong springtime celebration known as the Fiesta de las Golondrinas (Festival of the Swallows).

In fact, the two-hour parade, billed as the largest non-motorized parade in the county, has almost outgrown its surroundings, if not its decidedly hometown flavor.

“We used to have a blast,” said Rios-Foy’s daughter, Judy Jones. “Everybody knew each other. Now you hardly ever see anybody you know. It’s a little sad, but I guess that’s progress.”

Nevertheless, the estimated 10,000 people who lined the sidewalks in San Juan Capistrano seemed thrilled by the pageant, which boasts of the community’s western, Spanish and Indian heritage.

In all, there were 120 entries in the parade, including six marching bands, about 20 floats and numerous horse-drawn carriages and equestrian groups.

A trophy for the best commercial float went to the local branch of Remedy Temps, an entry that drew hearty laughter along the parade route. Employees played actors filming a silent Western movie, in which the cowboy hero saved the damsel in distress from the clutches of the villain.

Saddleback College won a trophy for its float, in which a bluegrass band, joined by college President Constance Carroll, plucked away at a series of folksy tunes.

Private parties dotted the sides of the city avenues. San Juan Capistrano resident Leslie Albright bragged about nabbing the best spot in the city as she gestured to her hay wagon parked next to the Green Burrito restaurant.

“It’s the perfect place. There are bathrooms on one side and good food on the other,” she said.

As 11 a.m. neared, kids decked out in mock-leather vests, deputy badges and felt cowboy hats rode their bicycles, glancing over their shoulders for a glimpse of the first horses in the parade.

As the scruffy-looking Alpine Outlaws, a group of modern-day desperadoes raising money for charity, turned onto Camino Capistrano, a child’s voice rang out from atop the mission wall, “They’re starting, they’re starting.”

And the people along the street broke into applause as the dozen or so gun-toting, blood-stained varmints stormed down Camino Capistrano.

The only mishap occurred before the parade when a horse, apparently spooked by the pre-parade activity, bucked furiously against a post and sliced tendons on its front legs. It was later destroyed by its owner, said parade organizer Bill Fielder.

He said the Fiesta Assn., which sponsors the parade each year, has approached Mayor Gary L. Hausdorfer to ask that the city help find a new staging area.

The current staging area at San Juan Elementary School cannot accommodate the growing parade, he said, adding that participants who completed the parade route were overlapping with those who had yet to march, causing some confusion.

Sheriff’s Department Lt. William Francis said there were no arrests. “This is a well-run event. We don’t have problems because it is family-oriented.”

Ruth Wright, who sat on a deck chair along Camino Capistrano with her husband, Bill, recalled when the parade was not so tame. Alcohol was outlawed on the parade route about two years ago.

“It used to be a very wild affair when they let you drink on the street,” she said. “But not anymore. You’ll notice there’s a lot of police.”

In fact, outside the Swallows Inn, deputies checked the hands of the people gathered outside, looking for open containers of alcohol.