The Third Millennium swept across America on a wave of public celebration but sputtered in rain-soaked Southern California, where outdoor celebrations were so poorly attended early in the evening that Los Angeles Mayor Richard Riordan quipped that his citizens were "a bunch of sissies."
But the long-awaited watershed on the Christian calendar was most notable for its nonevents--the much-feared computer shutdowns and terrorist attacks that failed to materialize as the clock passed midnight on the Pacific Coast.
Disneyland's central plaza was mobbed, as people fought for a prime view of the fireworks show. Elbows were flying and tempers flaring, making the Happiest Place on Earth look like a packed New York subway station.
Crowds were thinner than officials had projected. Still, despite a persistent drizzle overhead, lavish parties dotted Orange County's affluent suburbs, accompanied by intimate block parties in older neighborhoods and street celebrations from Fullerton to Orange to the San Clemente Pier.
There was a little girl who wanted to be on her trampoline, in midair, at the stroke of midnight. There were roving bands at theme parks, camels in parking lots at one party and fireworks across the sky. But more than anything else, officials struck a familiar refrain: heavy police presence and little action.
"We have more cops than people on the streets," Seal Beach Police Sgt. Bob Mullins said.
In Orange, St. Joseph Hospital welcomed the county's first baby--a girl--at 12:07 a.m. Anayeli Dector, weighing in at 7 lbs., 15 oz., was born to Elena and Javier Dector.
Downpours early Friday kept some revelers away from Disneyland. But as the new year approached, 50,000 people were grooving to swing bands and steel drums--a good showing on a normal day but far from the park's initial estimates of 80,000. By comparison, about 48,000 people flocked to the park on Dec. 23.
At the stroke of midnight, as Mickey Mouse stood atop Sleeping Beauty's Castle, a red rocket shot to the top of the Matterhorn, touching off an explosion that read: "2000." Fireworks erupted over a sea of glowing wands given to revelers.
For every American who celebrated publicly, there were many more who were home as the clock slipped past midnight. The millions who chose more subdued celebration, or ignored the milestone, seemed abundant confirmation of what the public had been saying for weeks: It had grown tired and apprehensive over the relentless millennial buildup.
