The REAL Santa
(Parents, don’t read this to your kids.)
Eons ago I believed in Santa Claus.
It was the late ‘40s, when I was age four through seven.
I had questions, of course, driving my poor parents crazy.
“How come Santa’s on every street-corner?” I’d ask.
I was told they were just ersatz Santas.
The REAL Santa Claus was at Gimbels Department Store in Philadelphia.
We lived in south Jersey at that time.
Prior to Christmas our local volunteer Fire Department would parade Santa around the neighborhood atop their hook-and-ladder.
But we all knew it wasn’t the REAL Santa.
It was Charley Philpot (“fill-POT”), the fire chief.
And he was rather surly about it too.
“Don’t tug on the beard, Johnny!” he’d say, adjusting his costume.
“Boy, it’s awful cold up here. No North Pole for me! Ho-ho!”
The REAL Santa was at Gimbels Department Store in Philadelphia.
Every Thanksgiving the Philadelphia merchants held a giant parade, and Santa arrived atop a hook-and-ladder at full wail.
Firemen would extend the ladder up to the eighth-floor window of Gimbels, and Santa would climb up it, and enter Gimbels through the open eighth-floor window.
That parade was always on TV, and TV would cover his ascent.
That was the time of Lionel Trains.
I had an uncle who had a monstrous Lionel Train layout in his house.
As a railfan (I’ve been a railfan all my life), I wanted a Lionel trainset more than anything.
My father would take me to Sears, where they had massive Lionel layouts in the basement.
Model trains have always been a rush, but -A) they collect dust; and -B) I got more interested in the real thing.
So I’m probably asking Santa for a Lionel trainset.
Usually children are terrified of Santa.
I was at first, but by age six (1950) I was okay.
Later I was told Santa Claus was a fabrication, but I ain’t so sure.
One Christmas morning a Lionel train was circling our Christmas tree.
It wasn’t much, but what a thrill.
I was told Santa had brought it.
He came in our back door — no fireplace.
And the reindeer and sleigh put down in our backyard — no snow.
It was true.
The Pepsi and Oreos we left were gone.
• Our family lived in a suburb of Philadelphia in south Jersey until I was 13. After that was northern Delaware.
 |
| Yr’s trly with the Real Santa Claus, 1950. |
It was the late ‘40s, when I was age four through seven.
I had questions, of course, driving my poor parents crazy.
“How come Santa’s on every street-corner?” I’d ask.
I was told they were just ersatz Santas.
The REAL Santa Claus was at Gimbels Department Store in Philadelphia.
We lived in south Jersey at that time.
Prior to Christmas our local volunteer Fire Department would parade Santa around the neighborhood atop their hook-and-ladder.
But we all knew it wasn’t the REAL Santa.
It was Charley Philpot (“fill-POT”), the fire chief.
And he was rather surly about it too.
“Don’t tug on the beard, Johnny!” he’d say, adjusting his costume.
“Boy, it’s awful cold up here. No North Pole for me! Ho-ho!”
The REAL Santa was at Gimbels Department Store in Philadelphia.
Every Thanksgiving the Philadelphia merchants held a giant parade, and Santa arrived atop a hook-and-ladder at full wail.
Firemen would extend the ladder up to the eighth-floor window of Gimbels, and Santa would climb up it, and enter Gimbels through the open eighth-floor window.
That parade was always on TV, and TV would cover his ascent.
That was the time of Lionel Trains.
I had an uncle who had a monstrous Lionel Train layout in his house.
As a railfan (I’ve been a railfan all my life), I wanted a Lionel trainset more than anything.
My father would take me to Sears, where they had massive Lionel layouts in the basement.
Model trains have always been a rush, but -A) they collect dust; and -B) I got more interested in the real thing.
So I’m probably asking Santa for a Lionel trainset.
Usually children are terrified of Santa.
I was at first, but by age six (1950) I was okay.
Later I was told Santa Claus was a fabrication, but I ain’t so sure.
One Christmas morning a Lionel train was circling our Christmas tree.
It wasn’t much, but what a thrill.
I was told Santa had brought it.
He came in our back door — no fireplace.
And the reindeer and sleigh put down in our backyard — no snow.
It was true.
The Pepsi and Oreos we left were gone.
• Our family lived in a suburb of Philadelphia in south Jersey until I was 13. After that was northern Delaware.
posted by BobbaLew at 6:13 AM
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