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Firefighters present safety program to Wyoming Area Catholic students

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Russell Wilson, Seahawks snap Eagles’ nine-game winning streak

<p>&#8220;So what do you think?&#8221; asked my buddy Alner, displaying his Christmas purchases. &#8220;Look at this. It&#8217;s a drone that flies around the house flashing red and green lights. Isn&#8217;t that neat for the holidays?&#8221;</p><p>I sighed. &#8220;Far be it from me to diss technology, Alner. But there is something to be said for a more traditional approach to decking the halls this time of year.&#8221;</p><p>He&#8217;d no sooner sneered &#8220;oh, sure&#8221; than he realized his mistake and tried to hotfoot it from his car to his front door. But before he could get his key out, we were taking a little trip to times past.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;d think I&#8217;d know better by now,&#8221; my neighbor grumbled as we trudged along the snow-covered street.</p><p>I pointed to the building we were passing. &#8220;Notice anything unusual about this department store with the nicely decorated show windows?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Hey, the windows are just pictures,&#8221; he said, touching one of them. &#8220;And the front door doesn&#8217;t open. What kind of place is this?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Congratulations, old buddy,&#8221; I said, patting him on the back. &#8220;We are in a little Christmas town set under a tree, back around 1950 or so.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;You mean we&#8217;re &#8230;&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yes, not only do I have the power of metaphysical travel, but I can also shrink us down to a size suitable for a Lionel Train display. It&#8217;s all temporary, of course. Now let&#8217;s continue on our way.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Does this town have a name?&#8221; he asked.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think so,&#8221; I replied. &#8220;It&#8217;s the Christmas town my dad built way back when. Every December, we&#8217;d clear out a room and put it on a huge platform, which was a feat of engineering and required that he learn electrical work and carpentry. Like these buildings?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;They do look real. There&#8217;s a movie theater down the block, with a marquee and show posters.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Sure is. He&#8217;d cut out individual words and letters from the newspaper to make signs and some tiny pictures from the movie page for the displays out front. You know, I can almost smell the popcorn.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Funny kind of snow. Not wet.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s artificial snow, from a box. But it glistens like the real stuff on these sidewalks. They&#8217;re wooden slats painted to look like concrete. Take a gander at the streetlights. They&#8217;re plastic, and they light up at night.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I could almost live in a place like this,&#8221; said Alner, surveying the street and intersection.</p><p>&#8220;I think that was the idea,&#8221; I said. &#8220;People with craftsman skills built their little towns to show they valued neighborliness and good values. My dad sneered at plastic snap-together Christmas buildings from a box. He&#8217;d buy pasteboard, paint and glue and build his own from scratch.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Hey, what&#8217;s that rumbling?&#8221;</p><p>I pointed to the rail crossing down the street. &#8220;What&#8217;s a Christmas village without a train? There are handmade freight and passenger stations here, and if you&#8217;ll look over yonder you&#8217;ll find a mountain. No dirt, though &#8212; it&#8217;s chicken wire over a wood frame, then plastered, shaped and painted to look like the real thing in winter. The train runs through it.&#8221;</p><p>I decided to take us back home.</p><p>&#8220;Well, kind of puts my high-tech stuff &#8230;&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;To shame,&#8221; I said. &#8220;So what&#8217;s next? Building your own town?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I&#8217;d electrocute myself,&#8221; said Alner. &#8220;Gotta check the paper. I understand there are some nice railroad displays for the public to see.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;And your Christmas drone?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll hang it in the window. My wreath is getting kind of ratty.&#8221;</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">Tom Mooney Remember When </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/web1_TOM_MOONEY.jpg</photo0><caption0>Tom Mooney Remember When </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Tom Mooney</p><p>Remember When</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Tom Mooney is a Times Leader history columnist. Reach him at tommooney42@gmail.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Remember When: Do-it-yourself decorating in Christmas seasons past