Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Candlelight Service, 1949

I was very surprised when you invited me to the Candlelight Service on Christmas Eve.  I thought you would be ushering in Southampton and I wouldn’t see you that night.”
                                                               June Anderson
                                                               Letter to Art Price, Dec. 19, 1949

Draft of newsletter design for the
Southampton United Methodist Church
by Art Price.
Art and his parents were very busy with activities at the church throughout the year but especially at Christmas.  One of the letters refers to how Art helped his father put up the two huge Christmas trees that dominated the front of the sanctuary during the Advent season.

The Southampton United Methodist Church had one Christmas Eve service, beginning at 11 p.m. and ending at midnight.  In the 1940s, you’d dress up for the service.  Men would be in suits and women in dresses.  Art would have picked June up at her house in Riverhead that evening and brought her to Southampton.  They would have sat with his parents in the pews on the left side, near the front.

Candles were handed out at the beginning of the service.  At the Christmas Eve service, there was more singing than usual – nearly all of the traditional Christmas carols.  The Christmas story was read from the Gospel of Luke.  The minister’s sermon was kept blessedly short.

Near the end of the service, the ushers came forward to light their candles from the Christ candle at the altar.  Then they proceeded back through the church, pew by pew, lighting the first candle in each row.  Down the pew, each candle would light the next until the church was filled with shimmering candles.  The main lights were turned off and the congregation sang “Silent Night” in a church glittering with candlelight.  Then, still in candlelit darkness, the organist tolled twelve notes signifying midnight.  There was a moment of silence and then the service ended with a rousing “Joy to the World.”

June and Art would have blown out their candles before venturing out into the cold December night.  He still had to return June to Riverhead for Christmas at home with the family, probably not getting home himself until well after 1 a.m.

(Tomorrow – Christmas art.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Most Romantic Blog on the Internet

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from December 20, 1949 to January 5, 1950, as June enjoys Christmas break at home (with frequent dates with Art)…

June and Art.
While there is a break in the love letters from December 20, 1949 to January 5, 1950, there’s no break in the romance.  June and Art spent Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve together, probably visited together on Christmas and New Year’s Day, and doubtless went on dates whenever possible.

To recap:  June and Art’s romance began in May 1949, ripened that summer, and the love letters started when June left for school in New York City in late September.  June temporarily withdrew from school in October when her appendix burst.  She returned to school and the correspondence resumed in early November.  Within the past month, their love has been noticeably deepening as evidenced by exchanges such as these:

“Tomorrow I am going to walk into this room and there – lo and behold!  A great big fat letter from a real nice guy named Art.  And you know what?  It’s so anxious to be read it just jumps right in my arms.  I can daydream, can’t I?  Only tomorrow I hope it will be fact instead of fiction.  Remember, I miss you.  Please make my dream come true.”

“How I enjoyed yesterday!  Walking through Central Park, down Fifth Avenue, the ice show, Times Square – even walking in the rain.  I only hope you had half as good a time.”

“Keep in out of this cold weather and don’t walk in the rain without me.”

“I’m going to miss you tomorrow.  Even the Museum of Natural History isn’t as nice as you.”

“Six long days and five even longer evenings till you’re in my arms again.  I didn’t know I could miss anyone this much.  I’m almost glad I hadn’t met you while I was in the Navy.  I probably would have gone over the hill.”

“Only seven days left.  I miss you.  I don’t think I’ll send kisses.  I’m saving them for delivery in person.”

“I’m very eager to receive that special delivery in person.  Missing you.”

(Tomorrow – the candlelight Christmas Eve service.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas Songs on the Radio, 1949

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from December 20, 1949 to January 5, 1950, as June enjoys Christmas break at home (with frequent dates with Art)…

Cartoon drawing by Art Price.
In their letters, June and Art frequently refer to the radio playing in the background, sometimes with old-time radio shows and often with music.  As Christmas neared, there would have been plenty of Christmas songs on the radio.

The huge Christmas hit of 1949 was “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” by Gene Autry, the famous singing cowboy.  This was something of a follow-up to Autry’s first major Christmas song, “Here Comes Santa Claus (Right Down Santa Claus Lane),” which was a top 10 hit of the 1947 Christmas season.  “Rudolph” was even bigger, a number one smash hit that sold over 2.5 million copies.  It would have dominated radio airplay during the week before Christmas 1949, 61 years ago.

These are some of the other popular Christmas songs that would have been in the air at the time:  “White Christmas,” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” “Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!” “The Christmas Song,” “Blue Christmas” (Ernest Tubb version, not Elvis yet), “Sleigh Ride,” “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town,” “Winter Wonderland,” and “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” along with traditional songs like “Jingle Bells” and, of course, all the Christmas carols.

They would not have heard the following (all written and performed after 1949):  “Frosty the Snowman,” “It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas,” “Silver Bells,” “We Need a Little Christmas,” “Jingle Bell Rock,” “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” “Feliz Navidad,” “The Little Drummer Boy,” “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” and that one where the dogs bark “Jingle Bells.”

(Tomorrow – a romantic recap.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Visit to the Frick

Filling in with some background information during a letter-writing hiatus from December 20, 1949 to January 5, 1950, as June enjoys Christmas break at home (and frequent dates with Art)…

As planned, June’s mother arrived in the city on Tuesday, December 20.  She traveled on the Long Island Rail Road to Penn Station in New York City, where June would have met her at a station packed with Christmas travelers.

Maud (June’s mother) was a small-town Southern girl from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.  After her marriage to Theodore Anderson, the young couple briefly lived in New York City.  Maud retained very fond memories of her young married life in the city.  After forgetting her mother’s birthday (!), June felt she owed her mother a good time in the city and she hoped to make the visit as special as possible.

June planned to take her mother out for some last minute Christmas shopping and also a visit to June’s favorite museum, The Frick Collection at Fifth Avenue and 70th Street.  A private mansion converted into an Old Masters art museum, The Frick Collection is an elegant, tranquil oasis in the heart of the city.  Escaping from the bustle of the Christmas crowds, June and her mother would have enjoyed time with masterpieces by Vermeer, Rembrandt, Velázquez, Holbein, Titian, El Greco, and many other legendary European masters.
 
The Boucher Room, decorated with large oil panels by François Boucher,
at The Frick Collection in New York City (early 1950s).
Image courtesy of The Frick Collection/
Frick Art Reference Library Archives.

(Tomorrow – Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Monday, December 20, 2010

I Could Dance All Night Long

Monday, December 19, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City

Dear Art,

Two letters from you today!  I think Shirl likes it when I hear from you – I’m always so happy afterwards.  She’s lucky I didn’t stand on my head.

The day after tomorrow I’ll meet Mother at the Long Island Station about 11 in the morning, then off for shopping and museums.  Don’t worry, I’ll be home Thursday night.

This is going to be a very short letter.  I’ve decided to do my Historic Research before going home so I won’t have to drag it along with me.  I’d like to finish most of it tonight and hear I am already tired.  I have a lot of work to do on it so I’ll probably be up till what do they say?  The wee hours of the morning?  This is the 1st night I feel sleep, too.

All my Love,

June

P.S.  Art, I just – wait I’m so happy I’ll start different, like – Art, love, I’m bubbling over!  If you were here I’d give you one great big kiss.  You’d better watch out – I’m so happy I might kiss anybody.  Guess what?  It’s a little after midnight and I have just finished – finished, you hear – Historic Research!  No taking it home, no worry about it.  No nothing.  I’m tickled pink!

I could dance all night long, or turn somersaults or backbends – I hate to go to bed, I feel like celebrating.  It’s so seldom I get any homework done.  I’m even ahead of Shirl!  She’s going to finish tomorrow night.

I loved your letters today.  I’m glad I didn’t know you when you were in the Navy, too.  I would have worried.

I’m too pleased to think.  Maybe I can get Shirl to have a pillow fight with me or something.

All my Love,

June





























 (Tomorrow – a visit to the Frick.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Sunday, December 19, 2010

A Surprise Invitation

Sunday, December 18, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
New York City

Dear Art,

June's father Theodore Anderson
working at the phone company.
How nice it was to hear you today.  I always said the telephone was a marvelous invention – and not just because Daddy works for the phone company!  You called a little earlier than I expected – but that was nice too – a very convenient time.

I was very surprised when you invited me to the Candlelight Service on Christmas Eve.  I thought you would be ushering in Southampton and I wouldn’t see you that night.

Heaven knows what we’ll do in school tomorrow.  Just say goodbye to the rest of the kids, I guess.  Two more days of school, a merry whirl with Mother in the city, then home!

Today Shirl and I went to the American Museum of Natural History to see that “From the Neck Up” exhibition.  It turns out that a lot that was donated by Traphagen.  That Ethel Traphagen has more stuff there than the Metropolitan and private collectors put together!

I’m very anxious to receive that special delivery in person.  Missing you.

All my love,

June

(Tomorrow – the last letter before the break.)

© 2010 Lee Price

The Gin Mills of Southampton

Sunday, December 18, 1949

20 Cooper Street
Southampton, NY

Dear June: 

Wonderful to talk to you today but as usual I couldn’t think of all the things I wanted to say.

Last night, I went to the movies with Frank Hoffman.  Then he and I and Joe Cerullo watched wrestling at the Anchorage for awhile then went to the Polish Hall and saw the rest of the boys there.  Then to Peter’s, took Frank home, and out to Julie’s with Joe.  We stopped at Pete’s again on the way back and met Bruno, Farmer, and Singer there.  Then back to the Windmill to eat, and finished the night at the Hampton Bays Diner.  Finally got home at 4 in the morning.  I stuck to beer all night.  Today I discovered a small dent in my rear fender opposite the driver side.  That’s what I get for parking outside of gin mills!  It can be fixed easily but I hate to see it.

I thought of you all evening.  If just one other guy had decided to go to the city, I would have been with him.

I went to church twice today, regular service in the morning and Christmas music at 4:30 in the afternoon.  Otherwise I’ve done nothing all day.  Only four days and three nights till I see you.  Tomorrow will be my last letter before Christmas, as you know.

Remember me to everybody.  I hope you and your mother have a good time.  I’ll be over Thursday night as early as I can, probably around 7:30.  I hope you’ll be there by then.  If not, I’ll wait.  I miss you, but I’ll be seeing you soon.  I’m a lucky guy.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tonight – a surprise invitation to the candlelight service.)

© 2010 Lee Price