"You want it to be one way. But it's the other way."
8 p.m.: Between about 6:45 and 8, all the bags and candles were distributed and lit along the length of Holly Street. This kind of forgettable shot is from in front of our place, looking south to Cedar Street. Dozens of people have showed up to walk the streets this year. All the familiar faces from around the neighborhood, and lots of people we haven’t met before. Even the beat cops are coming by to check out what’s going on.
6:54 p.m. PST: The first luminaria in the neighborhood are lit. These are actually a block away from us, on Buena Street, looking east from California. All of these were in place by dark. And not only here. For nearly a half mile along California to the south and on many adjoining blocks, the luminaria were all set out and ready to go by nightfall, too. Amazing to think this has all spread from our little celebration on Holly Street, which started 13 years ago tonight. Ironically, folks on our street are just out now putting out the bags. More later.
“When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected it with another and to assume among the powers of the Earth the separate and equal station which the laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect for the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the Separation.”
Kate and I and a neighbor, Jill Martinucci, read (or maybe performed is a better word) a slightly abridged version of the Declaration to the assembled multitudes at our street’s annual Fourth of July picnic today. The main event at the gathering is a watermelon-seed-spitting contest (a new neighborhood record, 43 feet-plus, was set today), so I was afraid reading this, even with our little interjections, would be seen as a little preachy. But several people came up to us later to day they hadn’t read the Declaration in a while and it was good to hear the words again.