Christmas Carol

In my youth every year on Thanksgiving Day in Detroit the J.L. Hudson Company parade concluded with Santa dismounting from his sleigh to address the crowd from the awning platform at Hudson's on Woodward Avenue. 

And, reliably, his beautiful helper, Christmas Carol.


I loved Christmas Carol. The perfect girl. Jet black hair. Bright red coat. Black patent leather shoes. Sweet as sweet could be.

Here's the whole story on this beautiful lady. Click to read.

From then until Christmas Eve Santa and his helpers could be found at the special, and magical, Santa Land on the twelfth floor near — as you might guess — the Toy Department. This was retail, after all.

As a boy I was hugely and ardently attracted to the whole scene. But, the meet up with Santa, Mano-a-Mano, was a bit intimidating. I may have demurred a few times from actually going all the way to see him.

Later, I keenly remember, after getting a little too old for Santa, visiting the elaborately decorated room leading to the Big Man himself, and wistfully longing for those earlier days of magic and fantasy.

Nobody told me Santa was a fantasy. It just dawned slowly. 

Now, however, with some maturity, I'm not so sure.

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