From the age of ten I was an avid Rose Bowl watcher. That included the parade and the game.
As a seven year old from Dayton Ohio, my dad took me to Columbus to watch the Ohio State Buckeyes play football. He had actually been a boy scout usher in that stadium on opening day, October 7, 1922. It was the biggest thrill of my early childhood. The color. The game. The cheering crowd.
The Rose Bowl contract was between the Pac 10 and Big 10 ( Ohio State’s conference). So, I watched.
As I watched, I became engaged with the magnificent skyline and climate in Southern California. I had never lived anywhere with mountains. They painted the horizon in the Rose Festival. To this day I can see the mountains and a few minutes away the Pacific from our home in SoCal.
I suppose the attachment goes deeper than that. My forebears were Middle Eastern, desert people. My 100 per Ashkenazi Jewish DNA leaves me more sanguine in SoCal’s desert climate, where we have lived just short of 43 years. I thank God we have been able to settle in a place this beautiful.