I Love A Parade
The Ventura County Fair has been running this last week, offering fairgoers everything they could want from wild rides and live entertainment to corn dogs. Except a parade. Sadly, the fair parade which traditionally opened the event with floats, marching bands, majorettes and the lovely Camarillo Sisters on their magnificent white horses, has been discontinued.
The parade was always my favorite part of annual County Fair. As much as I enjoyed watching the colorful show process along Main Street being a part of it are among the highlights of my growing up.
My first appearance was as abaton twirling junior majorette at age 10. My mother, ever searching for ways to keep me out of mischief, somehow found a baton class. Who offered it and where I don't recall but I vividly remember marching along in my little red and white striped outfit, with my tasseled boots and weighted baton. Parade goers cheered us along as we tried to not step in any horse droppings and keep twirling.
My next appearance was in October 1963 when I was one of five young women waving from the City of Ventura float, the sweepstakes winner in that year's big parade. My seat on the float was indirectly my mother's doing as well. Scanning the Star Free Press one afternoon, she found that a social group for junior high girls was being formed by the City Recreation Department. Mommy signed me up for what would become the Socialettes, a lively group that was soon organizing outings and a fashion show and regularly selling our home baked cookies to the women's bridge group that played on Saturdays at the rec center.
Left Row: Sandy Clarke, Nancy Egan Right Row: Mary Ellen Jones, Sherri Rooke, Emily Perry
I am not sure how the five of us were selected for the float, although I believe I was an officer of some kind at the time. The opportunity meant find finding just the right dress for showiness and modesty. Mine was a sleeveless pale-yellow organza — perfect for waving at the crowds. The aged newspaper clipping doesn't due us nor the float justice. The only item that aged more poorly was the tattered corsage I had glued beneath the photo in my scrapbook all those years ago.
My final memorable parade adventure was a major misadventure. Walking backing from the parade a group of four of us high school friends spied the small wooden temporary "no parking" signs set up along the route. We were in the process of planning our sophomore dance at the Academy of St. Catherine with the theme of West Side Story, transforming the gym into a New York street scene. Taking our cues from the famous album cover, we crafted hundreds of red cardboard "bricks" to turn one wall into the side of a tenement where cutouts of the black silhouettes would set the scene. Wouldn't those no parking signs be just the perfect detail?
It didn't take long for the police to stop us and put us into a squad car. Unmoved by our little story they took us straight to the police station for questioning. After an hour of so, we called our unhappy parents who came and claimed us. The signs remained at the station. Did we tell the nuns? I don't think so and it didn't go on our "permanent records".
In spite of my trip to the station house, my memories of the Ventura County Fair Parade remain happy, and I regret that no one is marching or floating down Main Street this year.