Variations on a Theme : Independence Day Celebrations Range From Patriotic to Zany

Proving once again that pushing freedom to its outer limits can bring one darn close to idiocy, about 40 fans of athletics and alcohol celebrated Independence Day on Monday by running, paddling and losing their lunch.

To be fair, some of those who participated in the more or less annual Hermosa Beach Iron Man competition--which involves running a mile, paddling a mile in the ocean and chugging a six-pack of beer--kept the libations down for the 20 minutes stipulated in the contest rules. But most did not, bringing cheers from 300 observers.

Hermosa Beach “is just one big, happy family,” said “iron man” and City Councilman Robert Benz, who claimed that he finished a clean third.

Benz took some heat for his involvement in the event last year, when the drinking was done on the public beach in violation of local ordinances. This year, to avoid the controversy, the beer event took place in a private yard several blocks away from the sand.

The competition was but one of the many ways that people in Southern California found to celebrate freedom on a day that dawned cloudy but developed into a near-perfect backdrop for parades, picnics, concerts and fireworks.

Some, no doubt, spent the day indoors in front of television sets watching the U.S. team being eliminated from World Cup competition by losing to Brazil, 1-0.

But others filled parks and pools and about 230,000 lined the route of the Huntington Beach Fourth of July Parade, which featured a campaigning Gov. Pete Wilson and is billed as the largest Fourth of July parade west of the Mississippi.

The smallest parade might have been the homey line-up of vans and pickup trucks decked out with red, white and blue streamers, balloons and pinwheels that wound through the streets of the Oakridge Mobile Home Park in Sylmar for 45 minutes.

It wasn’t much to look at, but the caravan summed up the community spirit that has emerged since Jan. 17, when the Northridge earthquake started fires that destroyed 57 of the 600 residences. All of them, which 2,000 people call home, were damaged and since then neighbors have become closer.

“Although it’s 218 years after the Declaration of Independence, we learned it’s not only independence, but interdependence that’s important,” said resident Joe Mayzels, explaining that the earthquake taught neighbors to support each other.

Mary Greer and Robi Robins scraped together a few dollars and bought blue vests with white stars to wear while singing “God Bless America” from their lawn chairs as the parade passed by. They had lived in motels until late May and many of their quake-damaged belongings are still in a trash bin in their driveway.

“This parade has been an emotional lift; we’ve been so depressed since (the quake) happened,” Robins said.

In Sunland-Tujunga, dozens of people sat in lawn chairs along Foothill Boulevard to view a procession of horseback riders, Boy Scout troops and colorful clowns.

Lake View Terrace resident Don Stoll, who sported red, white and blue tennis shoes, said he has attended the Sunland-Tujunga parade every year for the past 10 years “just for laughs.”

“The biggest float they had last year was a locksmith truck with crepe paper on it,” Stoll said.

The mood was similarly upbeat for many at an urban version of a country picnic put on in a parking lot by the Union Rescue Mission in Downtown Los Angeles, where 50 volunteers served 400 pounds of barbecued ribs, 400 pounds of chicken, 1,500 pounds of watermelon, 500 pounds of coleslaw and 100 pounds of ice cream.

More than 2,500 men, women and children from the streets and hotels nearby wound through a serving line and then ate to the throbbing beat of rock, rap and hip-hop music churned out by two Christian “biker” bands. For the children there were games and a petting zoo.

Priscilla Leonard, 42, said she welcomed the all-afternoon celebration because it gave her and her 7-year-old daughter a chance to eat a hot meal. She said their stuffy room in a single-room-occupancy hotel nearby does not have cooking facilities and usually they cannot afford to buy hot take-out food.

“If I were celebrating the Fourth of July in my own home I would be . . . having the same kind of food,” said Leonard, who has lived off and on at the Frontier Hotel for six years. “I’m really surprised they can afford to provide so much, because it’s so nice.”

But Leonard, who served in the Navy during the Vietnam War, said the holiday means more to her than a chance to eat a traditional meal. “I take it seriously,” she said. “I would like my sacrifice for freedom to be recognized. It’s not just another day to celebrate.”

Colvin is a Times staff writer. Oldham is a special correspondent. Times staff writer Gebe Martinez and correspondents Mark Sabbatini and James Benning also contributed to this story.