Farmers Market Reopens and Emotions Overflow

Hundreds of vendors and patrons of the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market -- grieving but resilient after the tragedy that left 10 dead -- revived their cherished market Saturday, briskly buying and selling farm goods even as they embraced, prayed and wept.

As the cheese man hollered “Taste our delicious cheese” and heaps of cilantro and nectarines scented the air, shoppers and vendors worked through their emotions during a morning marked by memorial services, a procession led by clergy, impromptu therapy sessions and a hug from the Santa Monica mayor at every stall.

“We will heal this community,” said Mayor Richard Bloom, his voice breaking during a noon memorial service. He spoke in the middle of Arizona Avenue, where just three days earlier an 86-year-old driver plowed through the crowded market. “We will find a way to rise up from our grief and continue on, but always with the memory of what happened here in our hearts and our souls.”

The crowd mourned the dead and prayed for the more than 50 who were injured. The farmers laid offerings of vegetables, flowers, bread and lavender on a white-clothed table, as if it were an altar. And vendors and patrons, many wearing yellow, black or white ribbons, praised the city’s decision to keep open a market that unites thousands through the common bond of sharing food. They also gave thanks for those who were spared.

“My God, I’m so glad to see you!” said vendor Leyla Cobain upon seeing a friend. She and Fernando Terrasas had both witnessed the carnage of dead and injured people, collapsed canopies and crushed tables along the 2 1/2-block length of the market.

“I was so anxious to come this morning,” Cobain said, breaking into tears. “I had panic attacks last night. But I knew I had to come back. I knew I had to confront my fears.”

Authorities are still investigating whether the driver of the car, George Russell Weller of Santa Monica, committed a crime when he drove his maroon Buick sedan through the market at what witnesses called “freeway speed.” Weller told investigators that he may have stepped on the gas instead of the brake. The tragedy has prompted renewed calls for stricter testing of elderly drivers in California.

On Saturday, all but two of the market’s 50 usual vendors showed up. The crowds were as big, if not larger, than usual. The produce was colorful, fragrant and organic, as usual. But try as they might to return to normalcy, little about the morning was routine at the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market.

A pamphlet asking for blood donors was tucked among cantaloupes and tomatoes. Daniel Mazairz, 56, of West Los Angeles, dressed in a gold tunic and linen drawstring pants, waved a torch of burning sage for its “purification and life-affirming” qualities. A woman wept uncontrollably in the back of a flower booth. Clergy members roamed the crowd, asking the teary-eyed if they needed someone to talk to. Two city pickup trucks were parked like barricades at each end of the street, a comfort to some, a sign of lax security to others.

Halil Parlar, 70, of Santa Monica, walked around with a placard reading “safety first” and circulated a petition calling on the city to install barricades at each end of Arizona. Bloom said that the City Council has asked the California Highway Patrol to recommend additional safety measures and that all options will be studied.

One shopper, clutching a bunch of pink roses, kept her eyes on the asphalt, all too cognizant of the tarred-over police markings that outlined where bodies had lain Wednesday.

“It’s very hard to walk on those,” she said, pointing to the tar patches.

The tragedy left many people who live, work and visit Santa Monica wondering about the crash’s probable legacy. Some residents worried that people would stay away from the market, or that their pedestrian-friendly city would be tarnished much like Westwood Village was in the late ‘80s after a series of crimes and the fatal gang-related shooting of a bystander.

The events of Wednesday have focused the city on the common mission of healing.

Tables were set up to collect donations for the hastily established Santa Monica Farmers’ Market Victims’ Assistance Fund. More than a dozen envelopes had accumulated in a box held by Tom Larmore, an attorney who helped organize the fund. U.S. Bank, Wells Fargo Bank and Bank of America have each committed $10,000 to the fund, and Larmore said donations of $25 and $50 from community members have been pouring in.

Business along the popular Third Street Promenade remained brisk. Even on Wednesday, people lined up at a movie theater not far from Arizona, still cordoned off by yellow police tape. By Friday, at the intersection of Arizona and the Promenade, the center of the twice-weekly farmers market, the unique rhythm of Santa Monica had resumed. Shoppers strolled and diners sipped iced tea and Cosmopolitans at a sidewalk cafe, all within 15 feet of a makeshift memorial.

The market’s revival started at 7 a.m., vendors erecting their canopies in silence, pipes banging against each other like some solemn, harsh bells.

“Farmers are tough people,” said Susan Ayles of Harry’s Berries. “We deal with Mother Nature, we deal with all kinds of things.”

The tragedy, many said, has made them realize the depth of their relationship to this market and its people -- people whose faces they recognize and know well enough to kick up a conversation about recipes or family vacations. But full names?

“I don’t know her last name. I’m not sure I can even spell her first, but I’ve been so worried about her all week,” said Daisy Tamai, 42, of Tamai Farms of Oxnard. “I think her name is Shamsi or Chamsi. She’s 80-some years old. I’ve known her for 18 years and she comes here ever week for my soft tomatoes.”

But Tamai never saw her market friend. “But I’m not going to feel anything until I hear for sure how she is.”

By noon on a muggy day, about 100 mourners gathered inside St. Augustine by the Sea Episcopal Church on 4th Street for a block-long procession to the market. Shoppers and vendors alike fell silent as the marchers walked to 3rd Street, where hundreds more had gathered.

Father Lorne Weaver, interim rector at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Westwood, waved incense over the table laden with produce. The dignified outdoor service, featuring a soloist, guitarist, violinist and a harpist, was punctuated occasionally by sobbing from the audience. The clergy members read the names of the 10 dead, sounding a small chime after each.

Times staff writers Akilah Johnson, Richard Fausset and Errin Haynes contributed to this report.