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Ralphie not the only one with a Christmas Story in Cleveland
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Santa at Halle's circa 1958
PART ONE.
While Peter Billingsley immortalized Christmas in Cleveland in A Christmas Story, for those of us who lived it, we have our own Cleveland Christmas stories to tell that won’t fit into 173 or more minutes of film. My memories begin in 1958, when like Ralphie, I was not too sure about meeting Santa, who seemed mighty scary. Halle’s 7th Floor was like sensory overload to a nearly 4 year old boy and the only thing holding me together were my two older sisters and the friendly face of Earl Keyes, the smiling Mr. Jingeling we saw on Channel 5, the keeper of the keys. There wasn’t a kid in Cleveland who couldn’t sing the song, or like my sister, didn’t hang the paper keys they got around the head posts of their beds. After all, if you were afraid of Santa, but had an “in” with Mr. Jingeling, he might tell Santa what you wanted. I, like Ralphie, had a hard time spitting it out for Santa.
Oh, there was much more than seeing Mr. Jingeling or Santa at Halle's that made a Christmas Story for me. While I did not live in Tremont like Ralphie, where the Christmas Story House used in the movie is now a tourist destination and gift shop, my folks lived in a modest home in Cleveland Heights but on whatever side of town you lived, Downtown would end up as your dream destination. That's where many Cleveland Christmas Stories were fulfilled.
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Ours began as far back as I can remember with a trip downtown together with my grandparents to dinner at Clark’s Colonial Restaurant on Euclid . My mother informed me upon writing this, that owner Yates Clark was a friend and classmate of my grandfather, who once asked him why he had so many smaller restaurants instead of larger ones. According to family legend Mr. Clark told my grandfather that he always wanted his restaurants to look full and therefore successful to his customers. Later on, we went to the Clark’s on Euclid and Forest Hills Blvd., as my grandparents lived in East Cleveland. With 14 restaurants in the Cleveland area, Clark’s was a holiday destination for a lot of families and especially their children. Why? Oh, my. The Treasure Chest! What a way to start off your trip downtown to see Santa, than by joining the Clean Plate Club and as a participating member that evening you could earn a trip to the Treasure Chest of Toys!
I couldn’t wait to finish my kid’s hamburger meal I’d washed down with some chocolate milk, even though I had already consumed a “Shirley Temple” when the adults had their “cock-tails”. It wasn’t until years later that I found out who this Shirley Temple person was. I only knew that she made me feel grown up and that the maraschino cherry I got to chew the stem off of, made me seem like the adults, only theirs were in something called “Old Fashioneds” and “Manhattans”. Whatever those were, I didn’t care. They just seemed to make everyone happy and laugh a lot. So, whoever this Shirley Temple person was... she was more than OK in my book. So, off to the Treasure Chest, where I slid across the dining room carpet of Clark’s on my knee socks while dragging my buster browns behind me, both just below the itchy dark blue lederhosen I was wearing...ugh...with suspenders I’d get tangled in the buttons of the crisp white shirt that my mom had sprinkled with water and carefully ironed for the occasion.
I may not have this in the correct chronological order, after all, I was maybe 4 years old and even though we probably did this until I was 7 or 8, after leaving Clark’s we were off to see what should have been one of the Seven Wonders of the World, The Sterling Linder Department Store Christmas Tree, just down the street from Clark’s. Walking into the lobby where the tree stood, it seemed like it was a mile high, and the elevators with cages and operators gave you an incredible view as they climbed to the top. For a four year-old, the biggest question was, “How did they get it in here?” The elevator operator, trained for such questions, replied, “Well Santa can come down chimneys young man, can’t he?” I swallowed that, like the pocketful of mints I had taken from Clark’s by the register, where the coins came down this really neat chute. 50’s tech was awesome! Next was the train through Toyland, although I am not sure whether that was its exact name, my sisters will most likely recall, but it was a miniature train that took you by Disney-like figures covered in fake snow, which at the time along with aluminum trees, was quite the wonder. How we got from there to Halle’s is another wonder. I can remember being so excited and hoping we would arrive in time because I had been “holding it” ever since getting on the train. We went in our Ford “station wagon”, a wagon perhaps in the truest sense, because it lacked seat belts. (Speaking of wonders, it's a wonder any of us are living to tell stories like this considering that in 1958, airbags would have been to us the bunch of pillows we used to keep in the "Way-back" of our station wagon as we'd often lay down back there.) Exiting the car somewhere near Halle's entrance we made it to the lobby and what a moment it was to stand there with the other revelers clamoring around a bank of brass elevators that made Halle’s seem like Fort Knox. Then, I watched as my sisters and the other kids called out for the seventh floor, at a time when elevator operators not only took commands but told you out loud, what you’d find on each floor. I never found out what "foundations" were and "ladies lingerie" certainly sounded foreign, the very words made me squirm, like something I wasn’t supposed to hear. However, I somehow knew what a girdle was and wondered why Dads weren’t the ones wearing them especially after eating what they did at Clark’s. Something called a Porterhouse, which sounded like a lot, eating a whole house and all that.
NEXT: ARRIVING ON HALLE'S 7th FLOOR!
To contact this examiner, email him at paulvoiceover@gmail.com
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