Our neighbor, who looked like the characters in Coca-Cola ads and billboards, used to feature Santa in the 1950s and 1960s. I was 5 years old, my brother had just turned 7 a month earlier, and my little sister Nancy was 3. We had gone to bed a short time earlier when our parents came in to wake us up to meet a special visitor. As we came downstairs, we were momentarily blinded by the strobe light, which was used to set the scene for capturing the moment with a Brownie movie camera.
We were welcomed by Santa, dressed in his full attire, sitting in my dad’s big, high-backed chair. He had a sack with him and even allowed us to tug at his beard while he motioned for us to sit and share our Christmas gift wishes. Back then, unlike today, you could hope for just one special item, not too expensive. After that, we received a coloring book and a piece of hard barley candy.
I remember my brother Larry asking him, “If you are really Santa, where are your reindeer?” He then motioned for us to come to the porch and pointed to the big sycamore trees that lined our street. The shadows of the trees swaying in the wind looked to us like reindeer moving on the roof. He said, “Now it’s time for you to get back to bed, and if you’re good, I’ll see what I can do about those gifts you wanted.”
Needless to say, Christmas for us was magical. The only thing sad in sharing this is my inquisitive brother Larry passed, not quite a year ago.
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