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<p>WILKES-BARRE &#8212; There is a scene in the movie &#8220;A Christmas Story&#8221; that takes me straight back to my childhood growing up in good old Plymouth, Pa.</p><p>Actually, there are many scenes in that movie that have the same time-traveling effect on me, but this one in particular deals with the family going out to purchase their Christmas tree.</p><p>There are so many similarities between the movie and my reality that I laugh every time I watch it. From browsing the trees to the final selection &#8212; right down to the tree seller picking the tree up and slamming it to the ground to see how many needles fall off. It&#8217;s right out of the 1960s and the O&#8217;Boyle family&#8217;s annual trek to The Last Chance on Carey Avenue in Hanover Township.</p><p>And this is the time of year when many families will be purchasing their Christmas trees that will adorn their homes for the holidays. Of course, there are many who have opted to buy those artificial trees. They will be taking their &#8220;trees&#8221; out of a box, assembling them and then they will proudly beam when someone asks, &#8220;Is that tree real?&#8221;</p><p>Anyway, once the tree was purchased at The Last Chance and brought to 210 Reynolds St., and placed in its waiting bucket of water &#8212; sometimes filled with anthracite coal to hold it in place &#8212; then the fun would begin.</p><p>My dad was an expert at stringing lights. His precise placement of the bulbs was a work of art &#8212; carefully hiding the wires and making sure there were plenty of lights to brighten the living room. And the tree would be positioned so it could be seen &#8212; make that admired &#8212; from neighbors walking by.</p><p>It wasn&#8217;t an illuminated woman&#8217;s leg with fishnet stocking as seen in the movie &#8212; Ralphie called it &#8220;electric sex&#8221; &#8212; but my dad would welcome any and all comments about how nice the tree looked from the street.</p><p>Once dad was finished with the lights, my mom and I would begin to hang the ornaments &#8212; each with their own special place to assure visitors would easily find them when they came over for the holidays. That was a way of life back then. Neighbors were so familiar with one another that they knew which ornaments would be placed where on each other&#8217;s Christmas trees.</p><p>And we had such beautiful ornaments. Some were made of glass and they were decorated with varying scenes and/or sayings. Some had odd shapes, others were plain. Each home&#8217;s tree was adorned with ornaments that were exclusive to each family. Back then, nobody went to Walmart or Kmart to buy the same ornaments. Nobody had a tree that was &#8220;artistic&#8221; &#8212; none were decorated with ornaments of one color, or with fancy ribbons flowing everywhere, or hand-crafted figures that cost $10 or more &#8212; heck, our trees, completely decorated, didn&#8217;t cost that much.</p><p>Some trees back in the day had popcorn strings. Many had icicles. Almost every tree had multi-colored lights. Some blinked, but not many &#8212; those were considered fancy. And we had angels or stars atop our trees. A Lionel train ran on a platform beneath. We would put little white pills in the locomotive&#8217;s smokestack and smoke would come out. A whistle would even sound.</p><p>We had villages on the platform. Some of the buildings were made by a company called Plasticville. We would make signs for the bank, the gas station, billboards and other businesses, naming them after businesses that operated on Main Street. We would use a mirror for an ice-skating rink and spray snow from a can to create a real wintry scene. We had tunnels and fences and we even placed candy canes on the tree that we would hand out to visiting children who thought that was a big deal.</p><p>And off to the side, in a very special place, we would place our manger scene &#8212; the baby Jesus would appear on Christmas morning, not before.</p><p>And there was a small table or TV tray where we would place a dish of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa Claus. The cookies and milk were always gone, proving Santa really was there.</p><p>And then we would go to bed with the anticipation of what we would find under that glorious tree on Christmas morning.</p><p>Santa never disappointed. Christmas was always the best day of the year.</p><p>Looking back, I now realize the amount of work and effort that my parents and everybody&#8217;s parents put into making Christmas bright. And I remember how everybody loved that time of year and how the spirit of giving really was practiced and enjoyed.</p><p>As Bing Crosby crooned on our record player, &#8220;May your days be merry and bright &#8230; and may all your Christmases be white.&#8221;</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">O&#8217;Boyle </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/web1_Columnshot-1-1-.jpg</photo0><caption0>O&#8217;Boyle </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div><div class="neFile"><img class="neImage" src="https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/web1_Christmas-tree.jpg">
<div class="neCaption">Kind of like this.</div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo1>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/web1_Christmas-tree.jpg</photo1><caption1>Kind of like this.</caption1><photoCredit1></photoCredit1></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>By Bill O&#8217;Boyle</p><p>boboyle@www.timesleader.com</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Reach Bill O&#8217;Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle, or email at boboyle@www.timesleader.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Beyond the Byline: Remembering Christmas like it used to be