A 1950's Christmas In Jamestown

This column is in honor of Julie (Bishop) Bradley:

I recently saw a picture of a family on Christmas Day in 1950's Jamestown.

In the picture, three children from the Bishop family sat in front of their fire­ place on Hotchkiss Street, the girls grasp­ing their newly opened dolls, and the only boy, Steven, sharing a grin with the camera, having just received the thing he wanted the most - a Roy Rogers cap gun set.

In the background there is a towering Christmas tree, with its perfectly laid tinsel, and a new baby doll crib and a toy ironing board.

This was Christmas in the 1940’s and 5O's - a time of simplicity and heart­felt giving; the era that seemed to capture the true spirit of Christmas in America. It was a time of beautifully illustrated postcards; of Radio Flyer sleds; of small town Main Streets strung with lights; of creaky floors in Woolworths with its aisles full of little gifts that little hands could reach. It was a time when your grandmother knitted your mittens.

I asked Julie Bishop, who was eight­- years-old when the picture was taken, to describe that day to me, hoping she could bring back the feeling of nostalgia from that era.

“The kids would have to stay upstairs while my father went downstairs to make sure Santa Claus had come. And then we’d sit on top of the stairs and wait for my grandparents, who lived on Beechview, to come and see what Santa had brought us.

She says she was so excited about getting that doll she doesn't remember what else was under the tree. And that is as much of a commentary of Christmas back then as anything else: most children got a few prized items from their lists, but those things meant the world to them.

“It was a big deal to get an orange in your stocking in the middle of winter back then," Julie says. ''They were out of season and when things weren’t in season back then you didn’t get them.''

Julie tells me about the tinsel on the tree, and how the kids in the family weren’t allowed to help lay it on the branches. It took a skilled and delicate hand, as you might remember.

“My mother laid the tinsel one by one," Julie tells me. “And because it was just after the war, you couldn’t buy tinsel. So, after Christmas, my mother would take each piece off the tree, wrap it in newspapers, and put them up in the attic to save them for the next year. It was a different time after the war. People saved everything.”

Julie’s mother, Lucy, would make beautiful box­wood arrangements for their house. This was a time before floral departments in big grocery stores or aisle after aisle of plastic stuff.

Decorations were simple and often handmade.

Then there was the tradi­tional baking that always started with flour and butter rather than already prepared dough in cellophane tubes. And there was the maple sugar candy they made that the Bishop kids would stir and stir and stir.

One of the most compelling memories, though, - the one that brings the holiday spirit soaring back into her heart, - is Julie’s memory of Mr. Hall.

Mr. Hall lived on the street behind the Bish­ops, and every morning he would come and clear the sidewalks.

With a horse.

“We would hear the horse go by every morning. You would hear the bells ringing somewhere and you would know that he had gone by with his wooden plow and now you could go out and play in the snow. It was such a magical time.''

Or maybe her favorite memory of the holiday sea­son in 1951 was of downtown Jamestown.

“It was always decorated beautifully. They had the garland across the streets with lights going across the garland. My brother and I would walk around town not worrying about any­ thing. We had our $25 from the Christmas Club at the First National Bank so we could buy presents for our family. We loved going to Bigelows and Grants across the street. And I can still remember walking into the dime store and the wood­en floors that creaked. I remember walking into that store and smelling it. It just had a smell about it. It was a special place.”

Then there was skiing and sledding at Stadium Hill, wearing all the stuff her grandma had knitted to keep warm.

“I learned to ski there. And sledding! We had the real sleds - not the kind of stuff you get today. And we all had toboggans. It was also the days of rubber boots. You’d wear your shoes inside the rubber boots with a Wonder Bread bag over your shoes so your feet wouldn’t get wet.”

I’m grateful that she's shared her picture, and these magical memories of post-war America when the holidays emanated a sense of peace and prosperity. The traditions of those decades have become the traditions of today.

You can almost hear the tinkling of fine stemware at her grandmother’s house on Beechview Avenue. Or Mr. Hall coming around the corner with his horse.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.