I Love a Parade

The Spirit of Tehachapi

 

Ava Salzman attends her first Mountain Festival. Shown with her great, great, great aunt, Pat Gracey.

The parade used to go down Main Street, now called Tehachapi Boulevard. I was just a kid at the time so as far as where the traffic was rerouted, I have no idea. Maybe they all stopped and watched the parade; who knows? US. Highway 466 came through town and then took a left on Curry to end up taking the old highway down the mountains to Bakersfield. The only route at the time.

One other detail must be added; it was then a 4th of July parade. In later years the Chamber of Commerce, the City Council or some deciding local source, thought up the idea of a Lilac Festival to be held in the spring of the year. I can smell those lilacs! A great name but somehow the climate and the lilacs could never be counted on to show up on the planned date. A second title emerged from those in charge: The Fruit Festival! Well, you know the answer to that. Harvest dates seems to vary and they could not coincide with the days of the celebration. Then, aha!, the mountains! The eternal Tehachapi Mountains, the mountains of home, which I love, are always there when you need them. Thus, the Mountain Festival was born and still remains, beginning with the parade.

Getting back to the parade route: it was moved from "Main Street" to F Street. U.S. Highway 466 had already disappeared into history and a new State Highway 58 bypassed Tehachapi entirely on a new route of its own. I guess the move to F Street was a better route so people driving on the "main drag" need not end up on a parade detour. It also meant that all I had to do was walk out on the porch of my parents house , on the corner of F and Curry streets, and watch the parade. How great.

After my marriage, my husband and I, plus our children, could come to Grandma's house to attend the Mountain Festival. It was a good time to meet one's relatives, both local and out of town. My brother Tom (Buster) Davis and wife, Helen from Monterey Park, often came and our respective children, the cousins, had much fun at Grandma's house. My father, Chauncey Davis, a great guy, was there, too, but for some reason we referred to the home as "Grandma's house." It was a good time.

The yard was large and fenced and usually a dozen or so grandchildren played and had fun. There was one hard, fast rule that never changed: "Stay off the cellar door!" An outdoor cellar going under the house was where my mother stored her canned fruit and jams. The door slanted up towards the house and made a perfect place for kids to run up and down. Strictly forbidden! This meant that someone just had to get a couple of "runs" before hearing a voice from inside the house to stop. My mother was deaf in one ear but she could hear those little footfalls.

Time marches on and my parents died and the house on the corner of F and Curry became the property of my eldest brother, Everett Davis and my sister, Evelyn Catalano. Still though, the relatives gathered on Festival Day to greet one another and to watch the parade. It has always been good to attend that "mini" reunion each year. Grandma's yard still had lots of family watching the festival parade.

During the parade the children were allowed to move out of the yard to F Street as candy was always tossed to them by parade participants going by. Each year I would sit on the porch steps and wait to greet the passers by that I knew; one of which was my Tehachapi High School former classmates, Fire Chief Tony Anthony, as he drove by in the red fire engine. One could always count on that red fire engine.

One year, my sister, Evelyn Davis Catalano was the Grand Marshal. Many years later, my grandson, Dakota Gracey, was also Grand Marshal of the 4th of July Kiddie's Parade. He rode with McGruff the "police" dog who "took a bite out of crime." I, too, rode in the parade once, but it's a long, long story.

Some of the older faces later passed and were missing on the F Street festival day gathering, while others took their place to watch the parade go by. When my sister and brother passed away, Everett's three children inherited the old house on the corner. Two of the three wanted to sell the old home built in 1880 and purchased by my parents in 1944. A sign, "for sale", was placed by the real estate company. It stayed in the yard over night and then Gerry Davis Starks called them to: "Take that sign away. I won't sell this house." She ended up purchasing the old residence from her siblings. She still lives there today and somehow, ended up being a grandmother, herself. It seems just a few years ago that she was one of the kids running up and down the cellar door.

A happy surprise greeted me as my grand nephew, Shawn Pugh and his wife, Anne, took a picture of me holding their granddaughter, my great, great, great grand niece, Ava Salzman. Ava is the daughter of Brock and Cheryl Salzman. She's a keeper!

This year's parade was especially nice. I was particularly proud of the crowd standing in respect as the American flag passed by. The high school band was good, the drum corps had themselves in sync and were tops. The Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts, our Mayor, the cheer leaders, horses, those fire engines and motorcycles riding by with the American flag flying and many more wonderful things to watch, kept us applauding. You may have guessed: I love a parade!

 
 

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