Southern California opened the century's final year Friday under blue skies as hundreds of thousands of spectators thronged to Pasadena from points near and far to ogle floats and cheer marching bands.
In fact, Southern California approached the end of the 20th century pretty much as it began it--with the annual Rose Parade. This year's parade was the 110th, and the last of the 1900s.
The Southland's annual advertisement for itself debuted cool, leaving overnight campers along the 5 1/2-mile route shivering in their sleeping bags, but also clear, offering the rest of the nation its traditional New Year's chance to covet Los Angeles weather.
Billed as the last Rose Parade of the 20th century--over the curmudgeonly objection that the event in 2000, not 1999, will properly own that title--it featured floats and grand marshals chosen to reflect the theme "Echoes of the Century."
Buzz Aldrin was on hand to recall the moon landing in 1969; producer David Wolper was there in recognition of his award-winning television and film work, ranging from "Roots" to "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory"; Shirley Temple Black was selected in part for her long diplomatic career, but was recognized by the crowd as the grown-up version of the child icon who charmed America; and Ray Bartlett was on hand to summon the memory of his close friend, former Pasadena resident Jackie Robinson, who broke baseball's color barrier and helped end the disgrace of segregation.
But it was the floats and bands that the crowd cheered most.
Children and adults alike chanted "Big Bird, Big Bird," in appreciation of the "Sesame Street" float called "Friends for Life," winner of the event's Humor Trophy. They enthusiastically applauded for a colorful "Cat in the Hat," and oohed and aahed over a giant astronaut planting an American flag. The Sweepstakes Trophy, honoring the event's most beautiful entry, went to "Friends of the Rain Forest," which, among other things, featured six waterfalls and 1,500 gallons of water.
And thousands rose as one for the 110-member Marine Corps marching band, sun gleaming off its spit-and-polish instruments and uniforms.
"It's just gorgeous," said Kathy Magnanenzi, who traveled from Illinois. "We've watched it on TV at home for years. This is outstanding."
There were hitches: Undaunted though it may be by rain and snow, the U.S. Postal Service faltered in the sunlight. Its float, featuring movie monsters and a coffin with a vampire inside, stalled just as it turned into television range. It had to be towed.
