Empire Christmas Tree Lighting

It was late morning and and rain pummeled the house. I perused the South Coast Shopper, a weekly print publication with infinitely more value than the Coos Bay World newspaper. Nothing saddens me more than seeing the death of a once-good newspaper and the World is deader than a door nail.

A notice captured my attention:

Empire Tree Lighting

Friday at 5 to 7 pm. Visit with Santa. Vote for favorite Empire business decorations. Hosted by the Community Coalition of Empire and Star of Hope.

The lighting of the tree would take place on a rectangular stretch of grass adjacent to the mural that depicted Empire’s glory days before the rapacious timber economy imploded.

Elmer and I walked by this stretch of grass every morning and regularly encountered a 75-year-old homeless man named Morgan who frequently slept in a sleeping bag at the base of the mural. Morgan loved Elmer and every now and then I handed him a sawbuck. I’ve been waiting for the right time to solicit his story. It’s coming soon.

We had to attend the lighting. I needed to know more about my neighborhood and its residents. The distance was a mere seven blocks. We were going even if hard rain continued. Someone was busting their ass to stage this event. I wrote a book titled Of Walking in Rain! I must walk in rain to support this cause.

At 4:45 pm Elmer and I walked out the front door. Rain had disappeared. Everything was gray and turning darker.

What would unfold? I had no idea. The only Christmas tree lighting I had ever attended was at Pioneer Square in downtown Portland in the mid 90s. Elmer and I were walking to the antithesis of that scene and I relished every second anticipating this antitheses.

It took us ten minutes to get there. No one was gathered around the unlit tree, a thin and stately 30-foot Douglas fir.

A door into the Star of Hope stood ajar. I heard activity rumbling inside. Elmer and I were going in. I knew the Star of Hope was a non profit organization that served developmentally disabled adults.

What I didn’t expect when Elmer and I entered and stopped on a welcome mat that practically every developmentally disabled adult in Coos County was inside and making rather merry. Staff wore ugly Christmas sweaters and dished up cookies coffee and tea. Christmas music played through speakers. One woman was dressed up as Ms. Claus.

I didn’t know if I should bring Elmer in without permission. I called out to a staff member if it was okay if we remained. She came up to us, greeted Elmer, and said we were welcome, of course! I asked if she would fetch me a couple of cookies and we would remain on the mat. Elmer detests tiled floors and would refuse to cross. She agreed.

And then the magic began, Christmas magic of the kind I have never experienced in my life.

This is no tale.

One of the disabled adults, a woman, saw Elmer and ran up to him. Her caregiver accompanied her. She went wild for Elmer and bent down to hug him. Elmer gave the love right back.

Then another adult, then another, another, another! It was a joyful siege upon my great husky! I introduced him and they introduced themselves. The staff member stuffed the cookies in the pocket of my coat. I was living a real Christmas tale in real time!

An announcement was made: time to head outside and light the tree.

We went outside and dozens of people were walking up to the tree. Families with kids. More developmentally disabled accompanied by they caretakers showed up.

A fire truck appeared with flashing lights and horns blaring. Santa was standing on top of the truck and screaming HO HO HO!

I maneuvered Elmer to spot well back from the tree. We were alone.

Someone official emerged and plugged in the tree. Everyone clapped and hooted and hollered.

I was overcome with emotion and started crying. A recently reoccurring thought raced into my mind: I wasted most of my professional life as a high school teacher. I should have put my energies into an organization like Star of Hope.

It was time to go home. What carols would I sing to Elmer? “Silver and Gold” and then “Christmas in Killarney.”

As we left, I noticed several of the local homeless population standing at the periphery of the event. They had showed up for the lighting. I could only wish a staffer would invite a few of them inside for cookies and coffee. I would have. Various interactions might possibly change the trajectories of lives.

Please consider supporting an Oregon independent publisher this holiday season by purchasing Gift of the Oregon Magi.

The book can be purchased directly from Nestucca Spit Press at www.nestuccaspitpress.com or via Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR4TDMFR