INA'S CHRISTMAS MEMORIES, 1937

 

My dad, Vance, whose gifts of holiday greenery were mentioned in Ina’s letters, was a master of holiday decorating, fashioning fir boughs, holly (or Oregon grape), and lights into a display on the front of our house every Christmas. And it wasn’t just his skill. As Ina said, his imagination gave his work personality.

 

Daddy decorated our house for Christmas from the late ‘40s, when he and Mother married, until 1986 – the last Christmas he was with us. It was never the same twice. And – as it is with an artist, he worked alone. He did not teach the rest of us how to do it. He probably couldn’t have.

Often it was just boughs, wreaths, and swags, but some years the theme was more obvious. One of my favorites was the silhouette of a couple riding in a horse-drawn sleigh, scarves flying in the breeze, which he traced on plywood and then cut out. He mounted it on the front dormer windows.

 

One year, pixies cavorted on the front porch. Mother fashioned them out of wire coat hangers. Their heads were Styrofoam balls, and they were dressed in colorful cotton shirts. Another year, a large purchased Santa sat near the front door playing a harp that Daddy made of plywood. 

But mostly, it was just greenery and lights with a star on the dormer. Eventually, he had a welder make some large wreath forms for him. 

To my way of thinking, nothing is as beautiful or unique as a house decorated with greenery, and back in the day people did that, but if you see it today, let me know. Things changed. In the early ‘80s, Daddy said that the boughs weren’t to be had. I could hardly accept that, but my neighbor Sonya, who also made her own wreaths and swags, confirmed it. Suddenly, holiday decorating became more artificial. 

So, even before Daddy left us, his decorating style had changed – more lights and less greenery. He was also older and challenged, and grandson Shann became his assistant. From 1987 to 1990, our last Christmas in the house, Shann decorated for Mother.

 

I was taken aback when daughter Hallie questioned her Grandpa Vance’s holiday creations. It was such a big part of my life. “Why is she asking this?” I wondered. And then I realized that she was only four the last Christmas my dad decorated – 1986. He passed away the day after Thanksgiving, 1987.

Unfortunately, I don’t have really good photos of the house in all its splendor. We didn’t have a camera good enough to photograph it. Fortunately, brother Chuck took the photo of the house and Daddy at the piano in 1984. KW