Seventy-five years ago, the Camellia Festival was started by the Ladies of Temple City to make their community notable, beautiful, and officially incorporated. There had been a Miss Temple City contest. A pancake breakfast with the firemen. An active Boy Scout troop. A student art show at the Temple City Library. There had been a cobbler, a hobby shop, a dance studio. Ye Loy Chinese restaurant offered postwar Americans an exotic selection of sweet and sour pork, beef chop suey, and egg foo young.

Fifty years ago, kids from Temple City High School would stop at Fisher’s Drug store for a root beer from the soda fountain, while in the park was a pristine white pavilion where local performers played big band, swing, Elvis, Tom Jones.

And today, the Boy Scout troop was still there, as was the pancake breakfast, the art show at the library. There was the hobby shop, the bike shop, and even the dance studio. The park was still there. Miss Temple City was now Miss Temple City Ambassador. The pavilion, now with a fresh coat of paint, still featured the music of big bands and Engelbert Humperdinck.

Yet now, rather than Germans, one was far more likely to find Chinese, Vietnamese, Filipinos, a few Malaysians, and still more Vietnamese. Where there had been shoemakers, coffee shops, and tailors, there were now Vietnamese bridal shops, boba places, a new branch of Golden Deli Pho.

And where Ye Loy once stood, Ahgoo’s Kitchen was now busy making stir-fried water spinach, Taiwanese fried noodles, and green onion sesame pie. And, although they offered fried rice and hot and sour soup, at least once a week a staff member would have to inform a confused customer that they did not serve egg foo young.

This evening, the park chattered with an uncommon energy. On most summer nights, older people gathered on familiar lawn chairs to hear familiar music. Sometimes they let their hair down to a Beatles tribute band or, very rarely, classic rock.

But this evening was classical music under the stars! The atmosphere felt a little like the Hollywood Bowl. Some had even brought picnic fixings from Trader Joe’s. And the park was also full of younger, mostly Asian families, who were either musicians or the families of musicians.

Landon Fung nibbled a donut. Whatever the reason, Ellen Seidel had hit upon a fantastic idea. Some of the older people in the Chamber had wondered out loud how classical music would appeal to a younger crowd. But these kids were excited and eager to be there. Many had music cases with them, and some were looking at sheet music, either in print or on their phones.

As he watched them, looking with awe at the bright pavilion stage, Landon Fung couldn’t help but feel proud to live right here, in Temple City.