Recently Duggie and other old friends from the neighborhood reminisced about buying Christmas trees under the West Side Highway; Joe Dean led a discussion about shopping ‘over the avenue’ on 14^th Street during the holidays, and of course, TCGVA held its 2^nd annual Christmas party at Twins Pub.

All of these stories led me to really try to crystallize what Christmas was like for me when we were growing-up in the Chelsea/Greenwich Village area.

My earliest recollection is my 4^th Christmas morning in 1951.  We lived on the top floor of 321 West 16^th Street and had a four ‘railroad’ room apartment.  My sister Kathy was only three and my other brothers were yet to be born. 

The Christmas tree was set-up in the living room corner and Uncle Jack McNamara, whom we had convinced to stay over (he lived around the block on 17^th Street ), was sleeping on our couch.  Well before dawn, I woke my sister and quietly went into the living room.  Since our room was next to the living room, we didn’t have to pass my parents bedroom. 

What a sight! Presents and toys were all tucked under and around the tree.  We were trilled and proceeded to open every package.  Clearly, we were disappointed to find adult clothing and other gifts in these packages but, so what, we opened everything.

Finally, my mother heard us (my father, who worked at night, had barely gotten to sleep) and rushed into the living room.  By this time, Uncle Jack was awake too.  After she yelled at us, she turned her attention to him.  Then, she told us that she was going to call Santa Claus to take back everything.  But, by mid-day, everyone was calmer and we had a nice day.  Of course, all of the gifts had to be re-wrapped.

A year later, my father had just gone to bed after helping Santa assemble a ‘Gene Krupa’ drum set, complete with cymbals and a cow bell.  Again, just before dawn, I led my sister into the living room and began playing.  My brother Steve was an infant in his crib.  Needless to say, my parents were not too happy.

When I was seven or eight, my father took me with him for the first time to buy a Christmas tree from the fruit & vegetable guy on 16^th Street , a few doors East of 8^th Ave.   The only other times we ever went there was to buy soup greens when my mother had a ham bone.  The tree sat on our fire escape for about a week to keep it fresh.  Then, using a hack saw, we cut off some of the bottom and made a criss-cross stand with slats from an orange crate.  I remember my dad saying this was how they did it on Gansevoort Street when he was a kid.

After that Christmas, I recall that my father (who was a bus driver) was on strike every other Christmas.  So, during the non-strike years, we had nice holidays; the others were kind of subdued.  Also, the building was only wired for DC electrical current.  This meant that we couldn’t have electric trains.  In fact, our first TV was plugged into a DC converter box.

Growing up in Chelsea/Greenwich Village at that time meant we were treated to the Longshoreman’s annual Christmas party in St. Bernard’s School.  They provided entertainment and every kid received a big bag of toys, fruit, candies, and other goodies.  My Uncle Jim McNamara always made sure my bag was earmarked because it contained a special toy or gift.  One year, it was a real leather basketball.

Other organizations, such as the Knights of Columbus and VFW, held parties at neighborhood theatres.  The programs included cartoons and a visit from Santa, who gave each child a small gift.  Throughout the Christmas season, each class from St. Bernard’s sang Christmas carols during lunch-time at the New York Bank for Savings on 14^th Street and 8^th Avenue .  I’m not sure if other neighborhood schools did the same.

We also had our school Christmas pageant; in the second grade, Sister Lenore advised me to ‘just move my lips’.  To this day, that is still good advice.

In 1953, I became an altar boy.  Christmas Eve at St. Bernard’s was very special.  First, the altar boys were part of the midnight mass celebration.  Secondly, we stayed up later than we ever did and our Christmas traditions took a new turn.  Altar boys always received a gift from the parish.  Since my father came home from work about 2:00 AM , I was able to stay up and see him open his gifts before going to bed (he usually worked Christmas Day).  Once I became an altar boy, I didn’t get up so early the next morning.

As I got older, my father assigned to me the task of finding a Christmas tree.  In those years, I recall buying trees at the Safeway Super Market (8^th Ave between 15^th & 16^th), the corner of 14^th & 7^th Avenue, and near the A&P on 20^th Street & 8^th Avenue).  Distance was a prime consideration because I had to carry it home.  And, I used my trusty Cub Scout hatchet to trim the bottom.  We even bought a ‘new- fangled’ stand for the tree.

In 1959/1960, we had the Christian Brothers in the 7^th & 8^th Grades and became involved in selling Christmas cards and wrappings for a commission.  Every sale earned a commission and there were prizes for the most boxes of cards sold as well as the highest dollar volume.  Uncle Jim helped me sell cases of cards on the docks, especially on Pier 56 Grace Lines (Who knows what those longshoremen did with all of those cards?).  John Lynch’s father was a corrections officer at Riker’s Island and he always was my toughest competition. 

From 1961-1964, I was in Barrytown, studying to be a Christian Brother.  Christmas Eve was very special.  We hosted Midnight Mass for the retired Brothers and Novices.  People from the nearby towns in Dutchess County came to our mass.  After Midnight Mass, we visited our neighbors (Rosemary Clooney had a place down the road from our complex) and sang Christmas carols until the wee hours.  Neighbors provided egg nog and cookies.  Since we didn’t come home for the holidays until Christmas day, it was always strange coming home after Christmas had already been celebrated.

While I was in Barrytown, my family moved into the Fulton projects in 1964.  From 1965-1969, I was back at home and bought our tree from the stands under the West Side Highway.  At first, I didn’t have a car and had to take the tree home on top of a taxi. 

In 1970, I was married and began my own Christmas traditions.

A few years ago, I spliced together all the movie film I had of every Christmas morning with my kids.  Then, I converted it to video tape.  This Christmas, my son is converting all of these VHSs to CD-ROM.

One more thought…

A person has three periods in his/her life ─ when you believe in Santa Claus; when you don’t believe in Santa Claus; and, when you are Santa Claus.

Merry Christmas to all the families who made Chelsea/Greenwich Village a great community.