Children on an Easter egg hunt for "superfun"

Not to overstate the case, but 5-year-old Nia Jones figured this was going to be a big day.

"I was thinking it would be superfun," she said. "I was thinking I was gonna be excited and run around everywhere."

Wrapped in a pink jacket and armed with a fuzzy green basket, she did, along with about 175 other kids who took part in Saturday's 10th annual Spring Egg Hunt at Garfield Community Center, one of many taking place this weekend at community centers in the region.

Nia's take: eight plastic eggs, filled with a typical haul — Starburst candies, taffy and Tootsie rolls. "I got an eye patch too," she said proudly.

The turnout doubled last year's showing at Garfield, with so many children that organizers — some sporting telltale bunny ears — ran out of the candy necklaces they gave to kids to show they'd registered. Baskets filled, digital cameras chirped and a minimum amount of tears flowed.

But with the adjacent ball field now overrun with city Little Leaguers, the egg hunt was confined to the playground, where four shifts of hungry-eyed children separated into age groups washed over the area and its soft bark underfoot.

Let it be known through the land that the spirit of competition is alive and well. By the time they got to the 10-year-olds, the horde of wild-eyed kids had to be held back. They looked like something from the opening scene of "Gangs of New York," except that instead of axes and truncheons, they held baskets, bags and baseball mitts.

As things intensified, the operation took on a military feel as organizers prepared the battleground. "We gotta watch the perimeter and make sure the kids stay out," warned volunteer Patsy Taylor of Njeri Temple 1387 of Cascade Lodge 1416 of the Improved Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks of the World, which co-sponsored the event.

As the egg rush began, parents offered their support. "Go, go, go!" they cried. Or: "Girl, get that one right there!" At one point, organizers had to solicit parental agreement not to storm the grounds along with their kids.

Things had been different with the 3-and-younger age group, whose eggs weren't so much hidden as they were seemingly the product of a giant chicken piñata that had burst and spilled its contents all over the landscape. "Just for them to see all the eggs everywhere is pretty cool," said Elisa Porter, the center's assistant coordinator.

Afterward, toddlers sat in pastel-colored fleece, oblivious to their baskets and feasting on their candy necklaces. Meanwhile, volunteers recalled a time when actual eggs were employed in the hunts, until crows put an end to that.

"The crows would come and pick them up, and we'd see them flying off," said volunteer Diane Hood, "Daughter Ruler" of Njeri Temple's Daughters of the Elks. "Then food would get left, and we had to deal with the rats."

Those days are no more. Instead, on Saturday, more than 1,200 plastic eggs in all would find their way into baskets, bags and at least one Hannah Montana knapsack.

Eggs would be emptied and, in the interest of the environment, deposited into a box for reuse next year.

Marc Ramirez: 206-464-8102 or mramirez@seattletimes.com