WILKES-BARRE — The day after Thanksgiving was always the day my mom and dad and I would head across the Carey Avenue Bridge to purchase our Christmas tree at the Last Chance.
Dad would patiently wait for mom to choose just the right Douglas fir tree and then the negotiations would begin. Once a price was agreed to, the tree was placed on our car’s rooftop and away we went.
Dad would have a big bucket of coal and water waiting to place the tree into. He would position it in the corner of the raised platform and then secure it with string held by wall hooks to ensure the tree would not tip over.
The next step would be for dad to string the lights around the tree, carefully spacing them to assure complete coverage and an exact alternating of colors. These were real Christmas lights — multi-colored bulbs that didn’t dare twinkle and were easy to replace if one burned out. And dad meticulously hide the wires within the inner branches of our Douglas fir.
Once the lights were on and all were lit, then the ornaments were placed on the tree under mom’s supervision. We had ornaments that were handed down for generations and it seemed that mom had a story about every one. And she had a place for special ornaments — recalling how each was to be placed here or there because, ya know, that’s where they always go.
There was this one special ornament that was my favorite. It was clear, with glittery stripes around the top and bottom and it sparkled. Mom let me place that ornament wherever I wanted and I always found a place of prominence for it.
This is a scene repeated over and over every year as families get ready to decorate their homes for the holidays. And the Christmas tree, well, that always was and still is, the center of attention every year.
Those evergreen trees will be decorated with lights, ornaments, garland, icicles, candy canes and popcorn balls and they are usually placed in the center of each home’s front window for all the world to see and admire.
And the final step in our tree decorating was to place a star or angel on top.
After the tree was decorated, dad and I would begin putting together the layout with a Lionel train and a quaint village called Plasticville.
At least that was the way it was in my house and in our neighborhood back in the day.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Once the tree was fully decorated and lit, we would turn off the house lights and sit on the couch and just stare at the tree. Once in a while we would move an ornament, or add some icicles, or just sit there and smile.
Then dad would get the train set out and we would place the tracks around the tree and hook up the transformer and place the Lionel train on the tracks and watch it run around for a few minutes. I remember these little white pills that we would put in the locomotive’s smokestack when the train heated up — white smoke would billow out and it gave an authentic look like the old west scenes we watched on TV.
And then we would build our small town. Plasticville was the company that made all those buildings — a train station, fire hall, police station, a motel with a swimming pool, a red brick schoolhouse, a church, various houses, an ice skating rink (which was a mirror) and a bridge over a pond with people and cars and trucks and trees and shrubbery. We would add roads and sidewalks and a little snow sprayed from a can.
We also had a church that my grandfather made that was modeled after St. Mary’s Church in Plymouth. And he also made a replica of our house, which I still have. And we would add homemade signs to the buildings — of Plymouth businesses because this was our hometown.
These are memories that never fade. They are as clear as a bell in my mind.
And every year, mom would wrap presents for family and friends and stack them around the tree. She and I would cut strips of red and green construction paper and string them in circles to make garland that we hung in every doorway and archway in our house.
On Christmas Eve, mom would remind me to put out some cookies and milk for Santa. Mom’s cookies were spectacular — there were Santas, reindeer, poinsettias, stars, bells, churches, candy canes, Christmas trees, holly leaves, snowmen, wrapped presents — and all were precisely decorated by mom. They were so beautiful, guests were reluctant to eat them because they looked so nice.
Mom and my Aunt Minnie Olexy would make these cookies every year and they drew “oohs” and “ahhs” from visitors.
And every year we had lots of visitors. Aunt Betty would bring a big box of Whitman Sampler candy. Uncle Joe wore a Christmas tree tie that lit up. Uncle Jim would always offer me that same bent coin and Aunt Thelma made the best Hershey Kiss cookies.
And we would visit all of my aunts and uncles and cousins. The scenes were similar, but different, each with their own special holiday traditions and decorations. And the food — oh, the food!
Holidays were always about family and friends and joy.
And they all began with that trip to the Last Chance for the right tree and everything grew from there.
We all have memories — good memories. Cherished memories. They are kept in our hearts and minds forever.
And each year brings new memories to cherish.
Do they still sell icicles?
The post Beyond the Byline: Of trees, trains and traditions appeared first on Times Leader.