The older I get the more I enjoy reminiscing. During December, I thought it would be fun to look at Christmas-Past. Let’s start with the early 1900s.

1900

At the turn of the century, one in five American families enjoyed a Christmas tree in their homes. Some lucky New York City public school students got to have one in their classroom! But electrically lit Christmas trees are still a novelty reserved for the privileged. A typical lighted tree costs about $300 (roughly $2,000 in today’s money). The price includes a wireman’s services and a generator.

On Christmas Day in 1900, ornithologist Frank Chapman proposes counting birds rather than hunting birds with his introduction of the “Christmas Bird Count.” This bird conservation tradition persists within the Audubon Society to this day.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum is published in September, in time to become a cherished Christmas present.

Hershey introduces the original Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Bar – a tasty stocking stuffer!

Popular Christmas toys of 1900 include sleds (selling for 98-cents each) sleeping eyes dolls (89-cents each), doll cradles (10-cents each), and ice skates (49-cents per pair).

1901

The first Christmas tree farm is started just outside Trenton, New Jersey, when W. V. McGalliard plants 25,000 Norway spruce trees.

On December 10, 1901, the first Nobel Prizes are awarded in the fi elds of physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and peace. Alfred Nobel set up the award program to recognize people who have “conferred the greatest benefit on mankind” – a noble initiative in keeping with the holiday spirit.

Conservationist President Theodore Roosevelt, concerned about the destruction of forests, decides not to have a Christmas tree at the White House. Today, people debate the consequences of using real vs. artificial trees, with many believing that if harvested correctly, real trees can be more environmentally sound than their artificial, and often petroleum-based, non-biodegradable counterparts.

National Biscuit company repackages its animal crackers in a red circus wagon box with a string attached – perfect for use as a Christmas tree ornament! The fi vecent boxes were a hit and continue to be a favorite today.

The teddy bear, one of the world’s most beloved Christmas toys, is born. Its origin is based on a story about President Theodore Roosevelt. In November 1902, “T.R.” went on a bear-hunting trip but he was unable to bag one himself. His hunting party hosts trapped a bear and tied it to a tree to offer the president an easy target. But Roosevelt refused, saying, “Spare the bear! I will not shoot a tethered animal.” The incident becomes famous and inspires Brooklyn shopkeepers Morris and Rose Michtom to make a cuddly stuffed bear toy and place it on their shop right at the height of the Christmas season. They name it “Teddy’s bear.”

1903

Advent calendars are introduced; they are attributed to printer Gerhard Lang. Legend has it that Lang’s mother gave her son a piece of cake or biscuit on each day in December, giving him something to look forward to as he counted down to Christmas. This inspired his creation of the calendars that offer children treats or favors for each day leading up to December 25.

Binney and Smith sells its first sets of Crayola Crayons. A box of eight sold for five cents, making a great stocking stuffer!

General electric begins mass production of “festoons” – colorful strings of lights intended to decorate Christmas trees. Though these are the first practical Christmas lights, they’re still quite expensive – a set of 24 cost $12. And in 1903, the average weekly wage is $13.20.

Victor Herbert’s operetta Babes in Toyland opens at the majestic Theatre in New York and runs for 192 performances. The musical sets Mother Goose nursery rhymes character in a Christmas theme.

Next week we will look back at the 1930s.

—CC—

Charles Osgood shared the feelings of many of us when he wrote the following . . .

“Is it just me, or does it seem to you that the holiday season gets here faster and faster with each passing year? The calendar insists otherwise, but it feels as if the holidays come at us today like a Stephen Strasburg fastball. No sooner do you take down the Christmas tree and pack up and stow the decorations, before it’s time to take them back out and put them up again — if you can remember where you stowed everything. The base that holds up the tree manages to hide from us every time. Last year we found it under my son Winston’s bed. It’s not there now, though. I’ve already looked.

Winston and his four brothers and sisters are all grown up now, but our memories of the season — Jean’s and mine — revolve around them and how it was when they were little.

Every Thanksgiving we’d take them into New York City to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was usually cold and often wet, and most of the time somebody was on my shoulders. But watching those enormous balloons pass by was magic for the kids. And always great fun for us experiencing it again through their eyes.

We now live in Manhattan and the parade passes right by our apartment building, the balloons at window level. So my daughter Kathleen and her husband, Steve, will bring our three little grandsons (ages 6, 4, and 2) down from New Hampshire so we all watch from the comfort of our living room and later enjoy Thanksgiving dinner. We’re sure looking forward to it. I wonder if the kids will remember.

That’s what the season is all about, I think, making memories for them. We always try to make the holiday season happy and memorable for the kids. But the older we get, the more bittersweet it sometimes seems. Perhaps when we grow up, we are haunted by our memories and the ghosts of Christmas past. Charles Dickens was on to something there. I once wrote about a Christmas past in a poem:

At Christmastime, one year when I was just a little guy, I thought I saw a tear in some grown-up person’s eye. And I couldn’t understand why such a thing as that should be, At a time that seemed so happy and wonderful to me.

And I asked this grown-up person if anything was wrong, And she told me it was only that the lights were a bit strong. Indeed, it did seem dazzling, the way the lights were strung, And it all seemed bright and magical to anyone so young.

My grandparents were there, of course — my dad and mother, too. Lots of aunts and uncles; there were more than just a few. And my brother and my sister and some friends who would stop by, And we’d sing the carols about “Angels We Have Heard on High.”

“Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem” and always “Silent Night,” I suppose it was old-fashioned and that some might think it trite. But World War II was going on with battles raging then, And yet we sang of peace on earth and of goodwill to men.

The yuletide log was burning with a warm and lovely glow. I can almost feel it now, although it was so long ago. Our children aren’t children; some have children of their own, And the little boy I used tote is long since fully grown.

But I found myself one holiday just looking at the tree, And thinking about Christmas past and how it used to be. An old familiar carol on the radio was playing, And suddenly I realized what a little voice was saying.

“It’s Merry Christmastime,” he said, “the season to be glad, But I saw you for a moment there, and I thought you looked so sad. Is anything the matter? Is everything all right?” “Oh, sure,” I smiled, “I guess my eyes were just dazzled by the light”

—CC—

A special Happy Birthday to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. He will be 55 years old Friday.

Happy Anniversary, Rudolph!

The beloved character celebrates a milestone. By Michael O’Donnell Fifty years ago, a holiday classic premiered on television. On Sunday, December 6, 1964, NBC fi rst broadcast Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and it has been a holiday favorite ever since. In fact, it is one of only four holiday specials of the 1960s that is still rebroadcast every year. (The other three are A Charlie Brown Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Frosty the Snowman.) The story of a misfit reindeer who discovers that his perceived weakness is really his greatest strength has charmed children and adults for many years. But the original story of Rudolph did not begin 50 years ago. It was 75 years ago, in January 1939, when 34-year-old Robert May, a copywriter at Montgomery Ward, was asked by his boss to prepare a holiday pamphlet for a Christmas season giveaway promotion. May accepted the assignment, and he was told that an animal story would be a good idea. It was a difficult time for May. His wife was suffering from terminal cancer, and the resultant medical bills were plunging him deeper and deeper into debt. He had wanted to write the great American novel, but instead he was writing advertising copy. He felt like a failure in life — but he had a job to do, so he concentrated on his new project. As he wondered what sort of animal he should write about, he thought of how his 4-year-old daughter loved the deer at the zoo, and since reindeer had long been associated with Santa Claus, he decided the story would be about a reindeer. Drawing inspiration from the tale of The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen and from his own childhood experiences of being taunted for being small and shy, he developed the idea of a reindeer that would triumph over some personal handicap and turn his disadvantage into an asset. But what should that disadvantage be? Walking along the street one night, he observed how the fog dimmed the streetlamps, making it difficult to navigate his way home. From this came the thought of a light that would enable Santa Claus to find his way through the darkest night and the thickest fog to the homes of children throughout the world. That light would come from a little reindeer’s glowing red nose, a physical abnormality that caused him to be ostracized by his reindeer peers. A connection to every child everywhere would be established, because he knew that every child, at some time, feels like a misfi t. The name of Rudolph was selected over competitors such as Rollo (too jolly) and Reginald (too British). Soon, May presented to his superiors the story outline of a red-nosed reindeer who guided Santa through dense fog on Christmas Eve. The initial reaction was not favorable. The image of a red nose, usually associated with drunkenness, was deemed inappropriate for a children’s Christmas story. May took a friend of his from Montgomery Ward’s art department, Denver Gillen, to the zoo to sketch some deer and put glowing red noses on them. Gillen’s illustration of a cute red-nosed reindeer convinced May’s superiors to approve the story, and May continued to flesh out the story written in verse. In July of that year, May’s wife succumbed to cancer, and May was left a widower and single parent. His boss offered to take him off the project, but May replied that he now needed Rudolph more than ever. In May’s poem, Rudolph was mocked and humiliated by his peers because of his glowing red nose. The other young reindeer wouldn’t play with him, but Rudolph remained hopeful and good, always obeying his parents. One Christmas Eve, the fog was so dense that Santa Claus, with his reindeer sleigh, had trouble finding his way and was running later and later. Distributing gifts in the reindeer village he stumbled in the dark until he entered a room with a glowing light. He awakened Rudolph and asked him to guide his team through the fog. Rudolph led Santa’s reindeer team, and all of the gifts were delivered on time. Rudolph was now hailed as hero by the other reindeer in the village. More than 2 million copies of this story were printed and distributed at Montgomery Ward’s stores throughout the country that Christmas season. Rudolph was a big hit among the children nationwide. At first, May received no fi nancial compensation apart from his meager copywriter’s salary. However, in 1946, Montgomery Ward’s ceded the copyright to May, and his fortunes began to turn. A new edition was commercially published in 1947, and a nine-minute cartoon was played in theaters the following year. The story of Rudolph really exploded on the public scene in 1949, when Robert May’s brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, wrote the music and lyrics for Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The song was turned down by many in the music industry, including Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore. It was finally recorded by Gene Autry and sold over 2 million copies that fi rst year. Today it stands second only to White Christmas as the bestselling holiday song ever written. Building upon the continued success of the story the NBC television network aired the Rankin/Bass production of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as part of The General Electric Fantasy Hour. Several additional characters were added: an avuncular snowman narrator named Sam, voiced by and immediately recognizable as Burl Ives; Hermey, a discontented elf who aspires to be a dentist; Yukon Cornelius, a prospector with a dogsled team of mismatched and preposterous breeds (including a poodle); the scary Abominable Snow Monster, aka “the Bumble”; and an entire island full of “misfi t toys.” Through a combination of excellent stop-motion cinematography and peppy songs, Rudolph learns that running away from one’s problems doesn’t solve them, and he turns his “disability” into a unique ability. When the show aired in 1964, Santa and the reindeer team, led by Rudolph, did not return to the Island of Misfit Toys. The response from the viewing public was immediate and vocal. Children found it diffi cult to rejoice in the personal victories of Rudolph and his friends when the misfit toys had been forgotten by Santa. The studio received an onslaught of letters on the subject, many of them quite irate. A new scene, in which Santa gathers up the misfit toys and delivers them to waiting children, has been included in the program since 1965. That new version has been rebroadcast every year since then, and along with Rudolph himself, has indeed “gone down in history.”

—CC—

And, last of all, my favorite story of the week.

An elderly couple had gone into a busy restaurant. Since they had no reservations they were told there would be a 45-minute wait for a table. The husband said, “Young man, we are both 90 years old. We may not have 45-minutes.:” The maitre’d seated them immediately.