Christmas Memories
I always loved Christmastime in Fresno when I was growing up. For one thing, downtown Fresno was decorated with colorful lights and holly that stretched over numerous streets, and Fulton Street — later, the Fulton Mall — was jam-packed with holiday shoppers.
They rushed, day after day during those wonderful years of my youth, into Gottschalks and Penney’s and Montgomery Ward and Roos/Atkins and Walter Smith’s and Woolworth’s and so many other retail outlets. Those stores were decorated with so many holiday lights and goodies that it took your breath away. Christmas in downtown Fresno was a grand time, indeed, and I’m glad I got to experience it before the decay set in and before people abandoned downtown so they could shop in Fresno’s far northern reaches.
Back in my childhood, those “far reaches” didn’t extend much past Shields Avenue. Manchester Mall, at Shields and Blackstone, was also lit up for the holidays. And, of course, Christmas Tree Lane — wonderful, glorious Christmas Tree Lane — was lit up back then with hundreds of thousands of lights. Not only did we Fresnans love driving through it every yuletide — we were extraordinarily proud because we knew “our lane” was famous around the country.
My Fremont Elementary School classrooms were always gaily decorated during the Christmas season. Our teachers put up trees and lights and Santas, and no one was afraid to mention the word “Christmas” back then. We sang Christmas carols in both our classrooms and in student assemblies in our auditorium, and no one found it necessary to object or to protest that we weren’t being “inclusive.”
My parents didn’t have a lot of money, so the first Christmas tree I ever remember having in our house was one I brought home from kindergarten on the last day of school before our Christmas break. I was proud to have dragged it home, and I can’t remember whether we had to buy ornaments for it or had some in storage. In any case, after that first “year of the tree,” we always had a Christmas tree.
We opened presents on Christmas morning, as I recall — but I can’t remember any of the gifts I received during my childhood years. I do remember the first time I bought my mom a gift. I went to our neighborhood five-and-dime and bought the only thing I could afford — a dish rag. I wrapped it for my mom, and I was embarrassed when she opened it because I had wanted to give her so much more.
My dad never embraced Christmas and never bought anyone any gifts. But he put up with the celebration and seemed to enjoy, as we all did, our Christmas Day routine. He and I would drive over to German-Russian town in Southwest Fresno and pick up the Grandmas and Uncle Jerry — much as we did on Thanksgiving Day. We’d bring them back to our Fresno High home and feast on the ham and potatoes and salads and veggies my mom had spent all morning preparing. I remember those Christmas lunches as if they took place yesterday — not a half-century and more ago.
Of course, Christmastime in Fresno meant holiday TV shows and Christmas music on radio. I remember seeing Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” on TV back then, as well as “Charlie Brown’s Christmas,” and festive Christmas shows by Crosby and Bob Hope and Andy Williams and Perry Como. On radio, I loved listening to NBC’s weekend “Monitor,” which always decked itself out with the sounds of the holiday season. One Christmas Eve — it was 1966, exactly a half-century ago — I was listening to Saturday Night “Monitor” on KMJ Radio — the NBC affiliate here — when the network announcer said, “This is NBC — the Night Before Christmas.” I was thrilled when I realized that only NBC’s network “letters” fit that “Night Before Christmas” phrase — and that the network could only use it this one night of the year.
As I remember it, Christmastime was always cold and foggy in Fresno — far foggier than it has been in the past few years. Back then, we had more rain than we do now, and that rainfall led to some truly foggy days. Often, you couldn’t see the sun for a week at a time. I always wanted a white Christmas, of course, but I never remember having one in Fresno. In fact, the only White Christmas I ever remember having took place when we lived in Buffalo, and that truly was a show of pure white — lots of it. In fact, after that Buffalo white-out, we moved back to California — quickly.
I’ve always loved the run-up to Christmas, what with the trees and lights and music and general feeling of goodwill the season engenders. This year’s been no different, though there’s no doubt that — at least in my neighborhood and the blocks around it — fewer people are putting up outdoor lights than in previous years. I don’t pretend to know why, but I hope it’s not because they’re worried or upset about what’s in store in the coming year. I’ve put up my outdoor lights as usual — I’ve done it for at least 55 years now, wherever we’ve lived — and I’m happy to go around, wishing people a “Merry Christmas.”
And that’s my wish for you. Merry Christmas, and as Tiny Tim so memorably said, “God bless us, every one!”