Ruby Alexandra Beloz

DAD’S CHRISTMAS TREE

Dad’s Christmas Tree The day my Dad came home with a bit of the future and a glimmer of magic inside a great big cardboard box, I can still hear my Mom’s voice outside in the driveway where my Dad parked the car: “Honey, what’s inside the box.” My Dad told her to put the coffee on, that she was going to need it!

I can still remember the look of absolute confusion on my Mom’s face like it was yesterday. My Dad had arrived home with a fake aluminum Christmas tree that he bought at the May Co. department store on Seventh Street in downtown Los Angeles.

This Christmas tree was like no tree I had ever seen; it was silver in color and stood seven feet tall. The tree inserted into a base that rotated 360 degrees in one continuous circle, it had a color projector that made the tree shimmer with every color of the rainbow, it looked like a rocket ship ready to blast off into space and it even had a music box built right into the base of the tree that played all of the traditional Christmas carols like Silent Night and Jingle Bells and my personal favorite Little Drummer Boy.

The year was 1967

Dad was so proud of our new family Christmas tree; he set it up in the living room right in front of the big window that faced the street for the whole neighborhood to see. He tried to convince my Mom that he had just purchased the latest and greatest of all Christmas trees for its time.

My Dad tried to win over my Mom with the sheer facts “But Honey this tree will never need water, it won’t ever catch on fire and the best part Honey is that it will last for forever.” My Dad was way ahead of his time.

You got to hand it to my Mom, she smiled back at my Dad, thus, in her own way letting him know it was OK even if we had a Christmas tree that looked like it could take off into orbit any second. At that moment, my Dad knew he had won my Mom over. I guess it helped that my Dad was a handsome man with good looks and a big smile like movie star.

The people in our neighborhood used to walk by our home and stop dead in their tracks, tilting their heads from side to side staring at our tree not quite understanding what they had just seen. I am sure some people wondered if Martians had just landed at our home.

I remember this Christmas tree prompted a real love/hate reaction in anyone who saw it for the first time. We didn’t even know what to make of it ourselves, to tell you the truth. It was not a traditional green Christmas tree and it certainly did not smell like a real pine tree either. To make matters worse, it was made of aluminum of all things and silver in color.

One thing I did know was that my Dad loved that tree and that was all that mattered. If you knew my Dad, you would have known him to be the latest, greatest gadget type of guy. He loved big Lincoln Continentals with big chrome bumpers with all the bells and whistles, and you could bet that car came equipped with every type of electronic gadget that was available in those days.

Dad loved playing his Christmas carols on vinyl records on his German made Telefunken Stereo player that was lacquer black in color with big square ivory push buttons. He would play songs sung by Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and, oh ya, what would Christmas be without Bing Crosby’s’ “White Christmas”? Singing Christmas carols around the tree made it more fun while we were decorating it.

Those moments spent decorating the tree with my Dad was absolutely magical; nothing seemed to interfere with our lives. All was good in our home. My Dad always made us feel safe even though, outside the walls of our home, our country was going through the civil rights movement in the south. Dr. Martin Luther King had told America he had a dream!

There was constant violence being shown on the television set and the outbreak of the Vietnam War had just let out a cry in full swing. Soldiers were dying every day. Protesters were marching in Washington, and all over the United States, our American youth were hitchhiking, riding buses, or taking the Peace train to protest the Vietnam War, to support the civil rights movement for all American minorities to have equality in America!

We were living in fearful times. So much was changing so rapidly around us that we did not know what to make of it, but one thing was certain – it was Christmas in our home and family was important to all of us, Family was everything and it was all some of us had during these desperate times.

I remember the best part of those evenings was decorating the tree with my Dad. It was an all-night event; we would talk and laugh for hours. My Dad was a World War II and Korean War Veteran and he would tell us silly stories about his Army buddies while they were all over seas. He even told us when he first learned to ski in Korea for the first ever.

He would tell us jokes that would have us in tears because they were so funny. Dad would sneak a kiss off my Mom as she passed by into the living room to bring us more goodies to eat, she would just blush and tell my Dad not in front of the kids!

Mom would labor all day in the kitchen making her traditional handmade tamales. The house would be filled with the scents and aromas of Mexican spices and red and green chili peppers. She made two types of tamales, one of red chili with pork and, my personal favorite, green chili with cheese. They were so good that it seemed like she never made enough of them. All night she would bring out all kinds of goodies and treats for us to eat while decorating the tree.

Then Dad would break out the Eggnog and we would all gather around the tree. He would make a toast for better days to come. He would bow his head and thank God, for all of our blessings never forgetting the men he served with in Japan and in Korea that never made it home for Christmas.

Dad and Mom used the tree-decorating time with my brother and me to find out what we wanted for Christmas. My brother and I would give Dad our usual wish list. Back then, in the late 60s, America was in a Rock and Roll explosion; kids all over America were listening to KHJ Boss-city, Soul Train and American Band Stand hosted by Dick Clark.

My brother was a California surfer boy who loved surfing and listening to the Beach Boys. However, I loved Bob Dylan. I guess you could say I was definitely the rebel of the family or as they called us in those days a “Hippie”. I loved his songs Dylan wrote, what they stood for and what they meant.

Yes, the times were a’ changing. That year for Christmas, my brother and I wanted portable record players. Imagine portable record players that played 45’s and LP’s on black vinyl records. Back then it was so groovy and cool to have one because they could be taken anywhere!

No surprise, that year my Dad bought two Zenith portable record players for my brother and me. My brother’s was blue and mine was white (Dad knew pink was not my favorite color). Dad even put a 45 of the Beatles inside each of them. My Dad and Mom gave us memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Today I am old enough to appreciate what they did for us, and the many difficult sacrifices they made to bring Christmas into our home.

Both my Father and brother have passed away, but the memories of decorating the tree with them is the most cherished treasure that I possess today. “My life is like a treasure box filled with a wealth of memories that fill my sad days with happier times.”

So many years have come and gone and I finally realized that the color of the Christmas tree or what it was made of is not what mattered most – it was the gathering around the Christmas tree that brought magic to the night before Christmas in our home.

Hey, do you think my Dad has convinced Saint Peter to put up a fake aluminum Christmas tree in Heaven yet? You can bet on it.

Submitted for the December 2002 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Joy of the Holy Days”
Submitted for the December 2006 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “The Spirit of Christmas”