‘Interdependence’ Day Spirit Unflagging

In the first frightening minutes after the Northridge earthquake, Ray Hudson stood in his plaid bathrobe in the middle of the Oakridge Mobile Home Park and watched in horror as a wall of flame swallowed seven of his neighbors’ homes.

Almost six months later, Hudson on Monday again ventured out into his street--this time decked out as Uncle Sam in red and white striped pants, a dark blue jacket, a fake goatee and a tall top hat.

The homey parade epitomized the spirit of community that has emerged in the park since the earthquake shook all 600 homes off their foundations--forcing neighbors to live in one another’s garages and driveways while the homes were put back in place and releveled.

“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.

Janice Arnold, who in six years never had exchanged more than pleasantries with her next-door neighbor Kathryn Franks, lived with her husband for several months after the quake in a motor home in Frank’s driveway.

“Everyone sticks together here now. We all know each other much better after the quake,” said Arnold, who sustained about $40,000 in damage, including repair costs for a baby grand piano that careened through her living-room wall.

The event 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.

In the Valley, earthquake recovery was the theme of the 16th annual Fourth of July Fireworks Spectacular at Cal State Northridge. Event proceeds were to be donated to nearby businesses and residents affected by the quake.

The event featured carnival booths and rides as well as a traditional fireworks show.

Most adults said they came to hear concerts, such as the one performed by the pop duo Captain & Tennille. Madeline Lopez, a Universal City resident, arrived early so her family could set up picnic blankets on the football field, close to the stage.

“We think of it like camping,” she said. “We’re outside for the day. We only do it one day a year.”

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.

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

Lake View Terrace resident Don Stoll, who sported red, white and blue tennis shoes, said he has attended the Sunland-Tujunga parade each 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.

At the Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Sepulveda, more than 300 veterans, family members and others gathered for the hospital’s 18th annual barbecue.

The temblor has forced the hospital to abandon its overnight operations for up to two more years and many veterans worried that the nearest overnight emergency care is in West Los Angeles.

“If they could afford to put a bonus on the highways but not put money into veterans, then that’s a lot of bull,” said Edward Tashman, a World War II veteran.

But the mood was lighter among others who listened to classic rock tunes and played carnival-style games on the lawn outside the hospital.

One of the more popular soldiers was “Uncle Bert,” who was clad in red, white and blue from his shoelaces to his baseball cap, and crowned with the Liberty Bell and the flags of all five military branches. He passed out lollipops to everyone as a button on his vest played the “Star Spangled Banner.”

“I entertain the troops every holiday by dressing up in whatever I can find,” said Bert Mallory, a Korean War veteran. “I have about 50 to 100 hats, plus all kinds of clothes.” Back in Sylmar, park residents spent 45 minutes circling along tree-lined streets in vans and trucks gussied up with stars, pinwheels and balloons.

Some dressed in elaborate red, white and blue, while a woman portraying Betsy Ross waved the flag from the back of a truck.