Christmas Traditions in Midland, Texas

Someone recently asked me if I thought I would miss Midland. My response was "probably not." But at Christmas Time I get sentimental. Of course there are the memories of the holiday season here. Sadly, as I reflect on many of the things that have meant Midland to me over the years, I realize that most of them are already gone on ahead of me

Riding the escalator to the second story toy department at Walgreens

I always wished I had asked about the massive neon sign that hung above that escalator when they tore down the old store. HI like to envision it hanging on a brick wall in a loft apartment somewhere and the owner loving it. It had a big arrow on it that lit up and words underneath that said something like "Up for toys, clothing, housewares." The only thing I was really interested in was the toys. There was also a very fascinating coke machine up there that my parents never splurged on. But I did get to see it in action once. It was pretty awe-inspiring how it dropped a paper cup, filled it with ice and dispensed a coca cola. 'Hope you wanted a coca cola...cause that's what you got. But it was soooo cool.

Buying Christmas decorations at Gibsons

Aside from being an-otherwordly place in the off-season (something of a cross between Tractor Supply and a modern day dollar store) Gibsons turned absolutely magical at Christmasttime. Gibson elves added to the already brimming and chaotic inventory of the store by creating winter wonder-scenes, replete with flocked trees (ahh..the LOVE of 'em) and tinsel trees (I so drooled over the marvelous things) and every type of bauble known to mankind: tweeting birdy balls, spinny ornaments, and myriads of other flashy fire-hazardy glittery goop. My best friend and I were once left in the store by her mom after being warned to go to the car several times. She circled the block and came back for us. When Gibsons closed down, the old building remained vacant for a number of years, it's oversized parking lot providing practice ground for driver's ed students. Since that time, it has been a gym and is now a Jumping Party. Of course nowadays, we Midlanders get our tinselly thrills at Miss Cayce's Christmas Store. My kids love to go there for warm cookies and cokes, if not for their fascination with all things shiny.

Downtown Christmas Parade

When you grow up in Midland, there's never much to do, so the Christmas parade is always a big deal. As a very young kid, I watched the parade huddled in blankets. As I got older, as most school-aged Midland students were, I think I was more often in the parade than watching it. From Marching Bands, to throwing candy from a church float. The parade was always a poorly publicized unpretentious, if not homely affair, but something we never wanted to miss. Just las year I found out tht it is always he first weekend in December. Maybe that's why it's not publicized...we're supposed to recognize a pattern. Ahhh, well, I'm gonna try to make it out one last year for my kids.

Seeing Santa at Sears

Before we had a mall in Midland, Sears was the place to shop. It had a special room that only opened for Christmas where all the toys were displayed and Santa Claus sat on his throne. Throughout the rest of the year, as I passed the entry to that room, I often wondered if elves were inside working. And if not, why they didn't keep the toys visible all year long. The old Sears building burned and was later relocated to the new Midland Park Mall.

Downtown window displays

One of my earliest memories was walking the downtown sidewalks with my mom to look at retail stores' seasonal window displays. This was before the area turned into the lifeless downtown of today (Yes, they say they are revitalizing it. Ummmm...okay, if you say so.) I don't know what the stores were, maybe clothiers and jewelers and the like. All I know is that my mom made a specail effort to take me and that she would call my attention to the bells pealing from First United Methodist Church as we strolled along. Midland with its tall buildings was fascinating to me. I had to bend my head all the way backward to see the top of the Wilco building. Inside the First National Bank Building, they had the tallest Christmas tree in the world. I always heard that if you rode the elevator to the top floor, they would give you a free coke. I don't know who told me that, but I was too chicken to ever try it. Today, Pioneer Natural Resources, the company that is transferring us to Dallas, occupies Midland's tallest building.

Uncle Al and Santa Claus at Parklea Baptist Church

A shy child, I was particularly coddled by one gentleman in our church. Al Little. My parents called him Al, and insisted that if I was to call him by his first name that I at least add "Uncle" to it. So "Unkey Al" was my guy and was pretty much the only man I'd go to. Not even when Santa Claus himself made an appearance at church could I be coaxed to sit on his lap. I believe I was four at the time when my parents manhandled me to a squalling sitting position on Santa's knee at the threats of not "getting what I wanted for Christmas if I didn't tell Santa." I avoided eye contact with the old man in red, focusing on a raised furry cuff exposing one hairy arm. I knew that arm. It ruined my believing in Santa from there on, but calmed me down enough in the moment that I could tell Unkey Al what I wanted for Christmas.

Christmas at the Mansion

I remember the Museum of the Southwest as a place we went on field trips and looked at exhibits I didn't understand. However, I was fascinated by the place itself. Rumor had it that there was a murder in the mansion long ago. "There is blood on the carpet upstairs," I was told. Hmmm... so THAT's why they never let us go up there. Today, the old mansion is done up right for the holidays. Local businesses decorate trees to fill the place. The Cats Meow Antique store usually does a fantastic display from their very complete collection of vintage findings. One year, they recreated the living room of A Christmas Story down to the leg lamp. But while I am admiring table settings and gingerbread houses indoors, my boys are pulling and tugging me to the train depot where a little old man in engineer cap shows off the collection of working toy trains with the enthusiasm and precision of a cub scout.

Candy Cane Lane

Candy cane Lane was a neighborhood venture someone dreamed up that became a tradition. Somehow they constructed oversized candy canes out of pvc pipe and dryer vents and striped them with red. Every house on the block had it's sidewalk flanked in a pair of the red and white sweets. Legend goes that if you sell your house there, you must leave the canes and the new buyer must agree to put them out each year. Now only a few avid traditionalists remain. But if you drive the street in daylight, you will notice a concrete pad on each side of the pathway, evidence of what once was.

Scrooge's House

I don't remember what street this was in Midland, but it was a highly decorated one. Once again, I think all the neighbors got together and planned to make it the brightest spot in town. There was only one problem: A large vacant, almost spooky looking house at the turning point in the cul-de-sac. There was nothing they could do about the eyesore but put out a large sign in front that read "Scrooge's House." The house remained vacant for some time and the seasonal solution continued to fit. Finally when the house was bought and the new owners moved in, they continued the tradition. How nice to have your neighbors tell you, "We will be spending tons of money on needless decorations but don't you worry about decorating at all. Just sit tight and put out this sign." Maybe I'll try that sometime.

Pull-through Santa Scene

Everyone who has lived here very long knows about a certain house in old Midland with a circle driveway and a big picture window in the front room. At Chrismas every year, a life-size Santa appeared engaged in yet another exciting activity. Santa the skier, Santa stuck in the chimney, Santa watching the game on t.v. The sign in the drive way said "pull through for a closer look." Every year cars full of families lined up to pull through and see what Santa was up to. This remained a family tradition from the time I was a young girl until adulthood. Then suddenly it stopped. We lamented that the new owners didn't keep up the tradition that so many had enjoyed throughout the years. And we continued to drive by that pace, as other Midlanders did, and remembered. Last year, we were surprised to see Santa was back, after all this time. This time, Santa stood before an easel among suitcases and trunks. Around the room were numerous completed works of art. The sign in the window read something like this: "For my Dad. Many people never knew that he was an avid traveller and an artist."