War, labor unrest make an appearance; yet 135th Rose Parade rolls on, greets the new year

A lion in the San Diego Zoo float at the Rose Parade.

, Caroline Petrow-Cohen, Angie Orellana Hernandez, Anthony De Leon, Ashley Ahn and Hailey Branson-Potts

Jan. 1, 2024 Updated 3:38 PM PT

Growing up in Texas, Donna Patton watched the Rose Parade on TV with her family, the house smelling of cinnamon rolls and coffee.

She cherished those times. But she always wanted to see the parade in person. On Monday, she made it happen.

The 58-year-old youth pastor who now lives in Colorado landed in Southern California at 7 p.m. Sunday and was on Colorado Boulevard two hours later. She traveled alone — but immediately found community among the overnight campers.

They introduced her to bacon-wrapped hot dogs and replaced her thin, airport-purchased blanket with a thick, fluffy one.

For her, the parade was about coming together. But it also was about a newfound hope. She had just gone through a divorce and was finally ready to branch out again.

“Sometimes,” she said, “we hold back on doing new adventures.” She wished to do that no longer.

For so many like Patton, the 135th Rose Parade, which rolled through Pasadena as the world ushered in the start of 2024, was, above all else, a cheerful respite from pains of the past.

The theme, “Celebrating a World of Music: The Universal Language,” was meant to be a message of hope and harmony in a time of war, labor strikes, and partisan political strife as yet another contentious American election year begins.

“In a world of different cultures, beliefs, hopes, and dreams, one language unites us all — music,” Alex Aghajanian, president of the Tournament of Roses, said in a statement. “The sound, texture, rhythm, form, harmony, and expression meld together to move, soothe, excite and delight the world.”

Spectators lined the 5 1/2 miles of the route. The skies were picture-perfect blue, a break between two cold, wet storms, one last week, one headed this way.

Security was tight. K-9 units patrolled Colorado Boulevard. Scores of police officers and FBI agents walked among the crowd.

Striking hotel workers represented by Unite Here Local 11 walked the route before the event began, banging drums and chanting: “Pasadena, escucha! Estamos en la lucha.” (“Pasadena, listen! We are in the fight.”)

A woman in her early 20s was arrested on suspicion of assault with a deadly weapon after allegedly trying to drive her vehicle through barricades near Chester Avenue and Colorado Boulevard, where a parade crowd was gathered, said Lisa Derderian, a spokesperson for the city of Pasadena. She was stopped by off-duty law enforcement.

Demonstrators holding signs that read, “CEASEFIRE” and “Freedom & Justice For Palestine” sat in the middle of Colorado Boulevard, halting the parade for about 10 minutes, Derderian said. But for the most part, the Rose Parade marched on without disruption.

Two women and a child wait in the brisk morning for the start of the Rose Parade.

Spectators who camped overnight bundled up against the early-morning chill. Children watched YouTube videos on cellphones. Adults sipped Champagne and coffee.

Daniel Caballero, 63, who has been coming to the Rose Parade for two decades, was part of a five-family rotation that staked out a place on East Colorado Boulevard early Sunday morning and camped overnight.

It was just 45 degrees at 6 a.m. , but he said that what keeps him coming year after year are the Southern California bragging rights — the kind of famously mild winters Pasadena boosters wanted to show off when they started the parade as a promotional event in 1890.

“The rest of the country, they’re snowed in and there’s crazy weather. But usually it’s a beautiful day here on New Year’s,” Caballero said.

Band members wrap in Mylar blankets before the Rose Parade.

The Honda float, called “Keep Dreaming,” was the first to roll, its speakers blaring the Snow Patrol song “Chasing Cars” — “If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Patrick Blackwell, 55, of Pasadena, said he was delighted to learn the parade would celebrate music. He sings with the Los Angeles Opera and said he attended the Juilliard School with the parade grand marshal, actor and singer Audra McDonald.

“It resonates very well,” he said of the theme. “It warms the soul.”

McDonald, a six-time Tony Award winner originally from Fresno, waved from the back of an antique, open car, heavily adorned with flowers. Not far behind was the city of Alhambra float, featuring a giant dragon clutching a globe in its claw watching over a baby dragon sleeping on a stack of sheet music.

“Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” played by an organ, of course, blasted from the DirecTV float, which carried the 2023 Little League World Series champions from El Segundo. The boys rode on a baseball field with a sod infield, white mums for the baseline and an outfield covered with red roses.

There were nods to crises of late: A float dedicated to ending homelessness. Pink leis worn by the Hawaii All-State Marching Band to commemorate losses from the catastrophic wildfire in Maui.

Eugene Gardner sells Michigan and Alabama memorabilia.

Mary Soucey, an 82-year-old from Buena Park, sat beside a space heater and a pingpong table near Terrace Drive as the morning sky began to lighten.

The Rose Parade has a special meaning for Soucey. She married her husband, Paul, in the early hours of New Year’s Day 2009, near Colorado Boulevard, before the parade began.

They met at church. Paul, 76, said he could immediately sense Mary’s kindness, and “If you find the right mate — thank God for that.”

Just feet from the spot where they were wed, the couple camped overnight with Paul’s 39-year-old daughter and a few friends.

“My husband has been coming here for 40 years, and he got me started,” said Soucey. They brought camping cots, tarps and plenty of layers.

“We refuse to be uncomfortable,” Paul said. “To have fun at the Rose Parade, you have to prepare.”

Near El Molino Avenue, Francisco and Martha Ramos of Pasadena said they have been camping overnight for 15 years.

“Others complain about the weather and leave because it’s too cold,” Francisco, 54, said in Spanish. “But you won’t get the same experience sitting at home on your couch.”

“You can smell the flowers, sometimes the floats drop them as they go by. They are fresh to the touch,” added Martha, a 55-year-old El Salvador native.

One year, a heap of roses fell at her feet. She took them home.

Some of the crowd’s biggest cheers were for the pooper scoopers trailing the equestrian units. Michigan fans near Fair Oaks Avenue enthusiastically chanted, “Clean that poop!” every time they passed.

Clad in Alabama attire, Verdayne and Chris Burge cheered “Roll Tide!” to fellow fans of the Crimson Tide who greeted them. The couple traveled to California from their home in Social Circle, Ga., a small town near the University of Georgia.

Coming to the Rose Parade was a “bucket list item” for Verdayne, 49, whose friends, Alabama season pass holders, gave her and her husband tickets to the game.

Verdayne had not visited California since she was 13 and planned to see the things her late mother, who lived in Whittier, recalled fondly, including the parade.

Burge, 57, said he was initially reluctant about visiting California, asking his wife why she wanted to visit a state the South sees as unwelcoming.

“The South portrays California as not friendly,” Verdayne said, “but it hasn’t been like that here.”

“Everyone has been so friendly,” Burge added.

Aracely Gonzalez, 26, watched the floats from behind her bacon-wrapped hot dog cart, where franks sizzled alongside peppers and onions. When she was young, she came to the parade with her parents, camping overnight, celebrating the new year with tamales before they got to work.

As a girl, she sat beneath their cart. Now, she has her own. Her parents on Monday were farther down the route, also hawking hot dogs.

The parade is one of the biggest events of the year for street vendors, who face increasing competition, with more sellers traveling from out of town to work the route, said Gonzalez, of South Los Angeles.

Gonzalez is a social worker who helps unhoused people find shelter.

“I’m really proud of that, and I’ve grown to be proud of this too,” she said, gesturing to her grill.

“It used to make me sad, not getting to celebrate like everyone else,” she said of the parade. “But now it makes me happy to be here and see everyone happy.”

Times staff writer Hannah Fry contributed to this report.