Colorful holiday in air, on ground
Bay Area marks Fourth of July with fireworks, parades, food
The skies lit up over the bay Wednesday night, delighting the throngs of people who descended on the Embarcadero to see the city’s Fourth of July fireworks display, grateful that its equally famed fog remained at bay.
They came from the farflung reaches of the Bay Area to escape the heat. They traveled from other states and other countries to see the polychromatic show play out above the water and bridges.
Red, white and blue dotted the crowd. Shirts, scarves, hats, stretch pants — anything that could be fashioned out of stars and stripes seemed to be.
Melanie Valdivia, 34, brought her daughters in from the Fresno area where the temperatures had soared above 100 degrees.
Walking up the waterfront, they braced themselves against the whipping wind.
“It’s really, really nice. I love that it’s so cold,” said Valdivia’s 12-year-old daughter, who clutched a fleece blanket around her shoulders.
Farther up the Embarcadero, people ducked under blankets and tucked themselves into down coats. As the sun slid lower, they looked toward the mostly cloudless sky.
“We’re hoping this clear weather holds,” said Linda Ingram. “But you never know.”
Ingram, 69, and her daughter are from Florida. They were planning on taking a boat ride to see the fireworks.
“That’s the best place to
“That’s the best place to see the fireworks — to be under the fireworks.” Linda Ingram, visiting San Francisco from Florida
see the fireworks — to be under the fireworks,” Ingram said.
Just across the street, however, others had discovered another seemingly ideal vantage point: the roof of the Pier 39 parking garage.
With the city rising behind them, Kelly Adams and her family planted their camping chairs in a corner of the roof, overlooking Fisherman’s Wharf and the bay and bridge beyond.
“We drove up the Pacific Coast Highway, but I wanted to be here to the see the fireworks over the Golden Gate Bridge,” said Adams, who is from central Texas. “Where we are from there’s no water. … This is fabulous.”
A couple floors below them, Scott Hayes looked out over the gathering crowd, fortifying himself with a Coke Slurpee and a cigarette.
Hayes is a street performer, who has appeared along the Wharf as Lillie Coit for the past five years. July Fourth can be particularly lucrative, overwhelming or both.
“It depends how drunk they are,” said Hayes, who wore a wig and long red dress.
Even though the event and wharf are a draw for tourists, Hayes said it’s also a tradition for San Franciscans.
“This is one of the rare times where San Franciscans will deign to make an appearance here,” Hayes said. “On the whole, everyone is in good spirits.”
In Sausalito earlier in the day, that little misunderstanding with King George seemed all but forgotten as local officials tied red-white-and-blue balloons to antique cars, paraded noisily down the main drag and threw enough candy at curbside children to keep every dentist in town in a celebratory mood.
“Let bygones be bygones,” said Dominic Ensore, a British citizen who found himself sitting on Bridgeway as the town’s humble, heartfelt Fourth of July parade wheeled by. “We lost. I’m not going to be sore about it.”
The thing the British lost was the Revolutionary War, and that defeat was reason enough for every hot dog and beer can to burst forth from the Bay Area ice chests like exploding skyrockets.
The Sausalito parade kicked off at the south end of town as officeholders climbed aboard antique cars, trumpet players oiled their valves and dog owners affixed bunting to their pooches.
“We take things for granted,” said Ed Madsen, 92, a medic in Europe and the South Pacific during World War II. “We shouldn’t do that. If it weren’t for independence, where would we be? We can say what we want to around here. In other countries, they shoot you.”
Madsen was one of dozens of people riding in old cars, restored cars, decorated cars and a motorized cable car. On parade day, the back seat of a car — normally the dregs of transportation — gets elevated to high status when the convertible top is down and a dignitary gets to plant his or her derriere atop the backrest and ride down the street like the royalty that Americans whupped but good.
Alice Merrill, the new president of the 100-year-old Sausalito Woman’s Club, was one of the people who got to sit on such a perch. City Councilwoman Jill Hoffman was another. Her husband, Steve, was driving a 1962 Mercedes with a bad clutch that, as the parade began, almost rolled back into the pickup truck just behind. Two friends of the Hoffmans, and of good government, stepped up and pushed the car forward as the Mr. Hoffman engaged the clutch just in time, and the parade continued forthwith.
Eight-month-old Philip Finn took it all in, with big eyes. It was his first Fourth of July ever, his father Phil said, an indisputable fact when it comes to 8-montholds.
“He’s pretty excited,” Phil said. “He’s independent, too. He understands independence. He wants to do things his way.”
Philip said nothing, but his face lit up at the sight of all the dogs. It would not be the Fourth of July in Sausalito without dogs, the four-legged kind and the kind in buns.
Massimo the sheltie was sniffing everything in sight, including Heather, a fourlegged acquaintance. Massimo’s owner, Dana Bialashewski, said Massimo likes Fourth of July parades because a lot of people pet him who otherwise wouldn’t.
“Life is good today,” he said, as several kids gave his dog a pat. “Massimo is just a spoiled Marin dog.”
Massimo did not seem to mind the blaring brass section of the Cal Alumni Band as it belted out “Sons of California” and its members shouted, “Go Bears! Beat the Brits!” which is what Americans managed to do two centuries ago, although none of those doing so were Cal graduates.
Trumpeter Sven Ostling of Novato, Cal class of 1967, said it’s hard to play a march while marching.
“When you’re moving, you’re bouncing up and down and the trumpet bumps your lips,” he said. “But it’s still fun.”
Fortunately for the parade, it was a cool morning. Hot days tend to make antique cars boil over, but there was none of that on America’s 242nd birthday.
A great thing about the Sausalito parade, said paradegoers, is that the sidewalks don’t fill up. A spot on the curb is available to one and all. A kid paying the slightest bit of attention can amass a collection of candy tossed from convertibles to see him clear through to Halloween.
Stores stayed open, although most potential customers were making memories instead of buying them. Ken Robinson, the proprietor of the celebrated Sausalito Ferry Co. trinket store and a longtime purveyor of Pez dispensers and finger puppets, happily stood in front of his empty emporium.
“I’m glad I don’t have any customers,” he said. “I’d get annoyed if people came inside the store while I wanted to watch the parade.”