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Block parties on the Fourth of July are an American institution, and Willow Glen is no exception. At least two parties in Willow Glen are about 30 years old, established so long ago that few residents can remember how they started.
In northern Willow Glen the neighborhood association made the 2003 Fourth of July the year it would organize its first block party, hoping to strengthen and unite a culturally diverse community.
The older parties on Cheryl Way and Bello Avenue began sometime in the 1970s, and each were isolated to only a pair of front-yard barbecues. As years passed, more neighbors moved into the newly built houses of the now 50-year-old neighborhood. Soon, the annual event took up several blocks on each street, and party organizers needed to apply for permits from the city. Fourth of July block parties on these streets have become highly anticipated and well-attended annual events.
In an attempt to start its own Fourth of July tradition while also promoting itself as a steadfast advocate for its residents, the North Willow Glen Neighborhood Association put on its own block party on Delmas Avenue. After applying for a grant from Community Foundation Silicon Valley, the association applied for a permit from the city and arranged for free ice cream and water bottles. Association officials also invited representatives from city departments and service organizations to set up curbside booths to offer brochures and booklets focusing on what residents can do to strengthen their neighborhood.
Ken and Carmen Martin began strengthening their neighborhood 30 years ago, using their Bello Avenue front yard as the focal point for the street's annual party.
As a retired San Jose fire fighter, Ken Martin's had little to no trouble getting permission to allow his section of the street to be overrun with tables, chairs and plenty of room for barbecue grills.
"We've cooked up some pretty wild stuff in the past," Ken Martin said. And he was speaking literally—he and his son Danny have membership in a hunting club and in previous years they've brought back deer, wild turkey and even wild boar.
This year, however, the father and son hunting team didn't get a chance to hunt, so Danny Martin opted to cook up some "wild oysters."
The change in menu didn't seem to keep away the guests, with several dozen residents gravitating toward the Martins' home.
"It always starts here at Ken's home and kind of octopuses out," said Robert Kosovilka, a neighbor from an adjacent street who looks forward to the block party every year.
So prominent are the Bello Avenue block parties that some of Martin's buddies from nearby San Jose Fire Department Station 6, at Cherry and Minnesota avenues, parked a fire engine rig, blocking off Bello Avenue and Georgetta Drive, and enjoyed some barbecue before returning to duty.
While the Martins and a couple other neighbors grilled for Bello Avenue, resident grill jockey Dick Gregg prepared his popular beef and baby back ribs two blocks over on Cheryl Way, with the help of three other grillers who'd lined the curb with six grills. The grillers spent the better part of the afternoon barbecuing ribs, burgers and franks for a slightly larger party.
The Cheryl Way annual party began when a handful of families decided they wanted to do something special for the neighborhood.
Lucille Cistulli—who some call the matriarch of the avenue—and her husband, Joseph, worked with other residents to turn an annual tradition into a virtual institution.
Cistulli and her neighbors Dorothy and Herb Cook and Sam and Shelley Saeli started organizing a block party for Cheryl Way in the early 1970s so that neighbors, especially children, had something to do on the holiday.
"For one thing, it was a good way to keep everybody off the roads," Cistulli said. "And also we couldn't think of anywhere we'd rather be than on our own block."
Sam and Shirley Saeli died in the early 1990s and their absence caused the block parties to be rather subdued for a couple years. But in 1996 the momentum picked up and enthusiasm returned.
Helping bolster that enthusiasm were Chris and Audrey Galy, who moved into the Saelis' home. The block party is centered in their front yard, as well as that of the Cooks.
Some neighbors joked that the Galys weren't allowed to move in unless they agreed to a contract to provide margaritas for the annual block party.
When Bob and Judy Adamson discovered digital photography, they made a montage of neighbors' faces and printed postcard-sized copies for everyone.
"It's just a small memento," Judy Adamson said, "because sometimes people don't have time to look through photo albums. This way, a montage is just there on the refrigerator where you can see everyone in a glance."
This year, they set up an easel where neighbors could place photos of family members who've served in the military, with the center reserved for those who died while serving.
Taking the center were pictures of Bob Adamson's older brother, Jack Adamson, who was killed in 1941 when his B24 bomber was shot down.
Fifty-year resident Herb Cook remembered when the neighbors had to work hard to get organized so the city would allow such a large block party.
"We would go to the city council, and they'd send us to talk to the fire department, and they said to check with the police," Cook said, recalling the process of navigating city government bureaucracy. After some trial and error, the neighbors figured out the permit application process, and soon the parties became so large that committees needed to be formed for games, monitoring children and cleaning up.
As popular as the Cheryl Way block party is, Cook admitted they lack a certain spark.
"These are fun times," he said, "but I used to enjoy the times when we could still set off fireworks."
Residents of Delmas Avenue have always enjoyed the fireworks display from the nearby Guadalupe River Park, or at least tried to. The best view is facing north toward the park in the center of the street so as to see between trees and over a train bridge. Attempts to enjoy the show were always interrupted when oncoming cars forced spectators to the sidewalk.
This year the 2-year-old North Willow Glen Neighborhood Association succeeded in getting a permit to shut the street off from traffic for an uninterrupted view of the show.
While waiting for the evening pyrotechnics, residents enjoyed a Fourth of July that many said was unlike any in the neighborhood's history.
Thomas Anaya and his wife, Fran, have lived on Delmas Avenue for 50 years.
"I am really enjoying this," Thomas Anaya said, "and as long as I don't have to work to put it on or clean up I'll enjoy it even more." He chuckles.
The association's block party chairman, Harvey Darnell, was glad that everything ran smoothly and under budget. The association initially asked Community Foundation Silicon Valley for a $2,700 grant but received $1,925. The grant was more than enough to pay for decorating the street, the permit and arranging for games, prizes, water and ice cream.
Wearing vintage deliveryman coveralls, Ed Archer proudly drove and displayed an authentic 1920s Model T delivery truck, from which he dispensed more than 400 cups of Dreyer's Grand Ice Cream. Archer, a semiretired employee of the ice cream company, rescued the company's first delivery truck, which his father had driven in 1941 when he worked for Dreyer's. Archer found it rusting in someone's backyard in Oakland in 1953 and refurbished it.
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Photograph by William Jeske
Just Chillin': At a neighborhood Fourth of July block party on Delmas Avenue, Ed Archer rests on the Dreyer's Grand Ice Cream Company's first delivery truck, a 1920s Model T, which his father used to drive. Archer refurbished it after finding it abandoned in an Oakland backyard.
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Near the corner of Delmas and Fuller avenues, Montana Hutton was grilling meat from his store, Ralph's Smokehouse, and next door, the Starbrite Market was taking advantage of the increased business.
"This is very exciting," said Young Choi, who has run the Starbrite Market for 11 years. She had never seen the street so busy.
Neither had Fran Anaya, and she was grateful for the association's gesture.
"One thing you never used to see around here is people of different backgrounds coming together," said the 73-year-old resident. "And I'm glad that I lived long enough to see it."
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