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A SoCal 4th: Variety on Parade

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Times Staff Writers

Eliseo Alaniz never felt more patriotic.

With pinwheels poking out of his baseball cap and a giant red, white and blue bow bouncing beneath his chin, the 50-year-old Ventura man lured Fourth of July revelers to one version of the all-American feast:

“Get your big, juicy, finger-licking-goooooooood hot tamales!”

It’s a pitch Alaniz has perfected over the past decade as the well-known tamale man of Ventura’s Independence Day street fair -- one of many patriotism-packed celebrations throughout Ventura County on Friday.

“I’m a proud American -- a Mexican American,” Alaniz said, “and that’s my best food.”

Drawn by clear skies and cool ocean breezes, more than 50,000 people flocked to downtown Ventura for the annual street fair, where they downed everything from tamales to funnel cakes, grooved to live bands and perused vendor booths peddling wares ranging from handmade soap to fur-covered hula hoops.

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Meanwhile, police and firefighters in Ventura County were busy responding to reports of firecracker blasts and other incidents, including a small blaze at a two-story home on Ojai Road in Santa Paula caused by a downed power line.

“We’ve been busy, but nothing too out of the ordinary,” a county fire dispatcher said.

Earlier in the day, thousands lined Ventura’s Main Street for the Push ‘N’ Pullem Parade, an Independence Day rite in which families march in a sea of red, white and blue to celebrate their freedom and America’s birthday.

There were moms pulling babies in wagons draped with American flags, teenagers riding scooters wrapped in glittery streamers, kids tossing candy at other kids and dads clutching video cameras to record it all for posterity.

“It’s a really neat tradition,” said 27-year-old Jennifer Lehr, who with her two young daughters watched the parade that she had marched in herself when she was their age. “It makes you feel like it’s still a small town. It’s very homey.”

Nancy Ochoa towed her two boys, 3-year-old Kevin and 15-month-old Danny, in a fire-engine-red wagon trailed by balloons and ribbons.

Keeping with the parade’s theme of “Mothers, baseball and apple pie,” Kevin wore a Dodgers uniform and blew a whistle shaped like a baseball while tossing green-apple-flavored candy to the crowd. “We like to get in the spirit,” Ochoa said.

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Throughout Southern California, similar celebrations were unfolding.

In Monterey Park, residents camped out as early at 4 a.m. to secure a prime spot in front of the Barnes Park bandstand where, by noon, the municipal concert band was crashing through a selection of patriotic marches and show tunes. Beneath rows of red, white and blue balloons, vendors sold ice cream, pizza and doughnuts as well as sui mai dumplings and barbecued pork buns, a reflection of the city’s multiethnic makeup.

Many people said that July 4 had taken on new and special meaning in Monterey Park as immigrants have become U.S. citizens. About 15 people were introduced on the bandstand as new citizens.

Rodolfo Fuentes, 66, a Guatemala native and a naturalized U.S. citizen, said his upbringing amid the unstable and sometimes autocratic governments of Central America gave him a special respect for his adopted country. He wore a T-shirt emblazoned: “United States of America -- United We Stand.”

“This country gives us liberty of expression and movement, the right to vote and all kinds of rights that they don’t have in other places,” Fuentes said as he sat in the shade enjoying the music with his friend, Rosa Carranza, 85.

Two veterans used the occasion to start on a cross-country walk in support of the men and women coming home from service in Iraq. Steve Lovett, a 36-year-old paramedic, and Brian Duff, a 35-year-old real estate agent, gathered with friends and family at the Santa Monica Pier for a small but lively send-off. The two described themselves as former Army Rangers who plan to walk 25 to 30 miles a day, reaching Washington, D.C., on Veterans Day, Nov. 11.

Lovett said their goal is to get people to pay more attention to the two holidays “and make plans to take care of the solders when they come home.”

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In Boyle Heights, musicians, leftist activists and Eastside hipsters gathered in the sun for an event dubbed the Farce of July. It was a fund-raiser for the “Peace and Dignity Journeys,” described as treks across the continent on foot to promote “the healing of our nations.” Bands played cumbia, rock and reggae outside while inside a meeting hall a ponytailed man led student-age participants through a lecture on Nahuatl philosophy. Nahuatl is the ancient Indian language that was spoken in parts of what is now the Southwestern United States and Mexico.

Marisol Torres, 27, who was born and raised in Southern California, spent the early part of the afternoon on stage with the poetry and music group she co-founded, In Lak Ech. Torres said she found little to celebrate on the holiday.

“The Fourth of July has a deeper meaning,” she said. “The history that did take place was a very destructive history, and you can’t deny what happened. There was a slaughter, a genocide of people. So I can’t say people could ever be happy for the Fourth of July.”

The evidence, however, suggested that most were.

In South Pasadena, a neighborly town of 25,000 residents crowded Mission Street for the annual Fourth of July parade, a celebration similarly packed with the feel of small-town America and characterized by support for U.S. troops in the Middle East.

“It’s a good, hometown feeling,” said Eugene Peron, 75, a retired Pasadena police officer and former Naval Reserve member who has been coming to the parade for 20 years. “You come out and see people you know and you also think about the servicemen who are away from home. This is a way to show our unity.”

Toddlers waved American flags and flag-wearing adults cheered as Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts and cheerleaders from local schools marched past.

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“I feel like I’m in the middle of Iowa in a farm town,” said John Knapp, who brought his year-old son, Willy, to enjoy the parade. “It’s nice to see people waving at each other. You don’t see that a lot in Los Angeles.”

As many as 250,000 people lined the sidewalks of Huntington Beach to cheer the 99th running of the city’s annual July 4 parade as it wound down Pacific Coast Highway and up Main Street to City Hall. For all the parade’s size and its celebrity -- the marshals this year were Mickey Rooney and Reggie Jackson -- its charm lies in its folksiness, viewers said.

“This is the only piece of small-town America you get in California,” said Brian Fried, a 36-year-old beverage company manager who, perhaps, needs to learn more about South Pasadena and Ventura, among other places.

He and his family got to the parade’s starting point about 10 minutes before the 330 entries started marching. They were there when a tiny scout lost his troop, and well-wishers shouted: “Hey, sweetie! They’re starting! Oh, he was looking at the girls!” They were there to watch the Lynwood High School band blare “Louie Louie.” And they were there to hear more than one sparkling float crank out “Surf City,” drowning out the very real waves that were crashing a few yards away.

Up the coast, in Venice, some people wondered just what was under those waves. There had been reports of sightings earlier in the week of young great white sharks in the vicinity.

“If they have sharks, I’m not going in the water,” said Darrell Pickens, 50, an unemployed Pasadena resident who was kicked back under a palm tree. “Would you? I mean, I’m just here relaxing and hanging out for the Fourth. I don’t want to go near any sharks.”

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But most people seemed to take the shark reports in stride. Among them was William Shaw, a 39-year-old Venice resident and surfer.

“Sharks are my brothers,” he said, while waxing his board. “If you feel fear, they can smell it, and they’ll attack you. But if you respect them, you’ll be fine. There are plenty of sharks out there, but you just gotta respect all the living things. Peace out, sister!”

Back in Ventura, Alaniz continued to hawk tamales as part of the annual fund-raiser for the Ventura Apostolic Church.

The popularity of flavors changes slightly from year to year, he said, but one thing remains constant: “We always sell out.”

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Times staff writers Mitchell Landsberg, Allison Hoffman, Olga Rodriguez, Katie Flynn and Ashley Powers contributed to this report.

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