My husband Chuck and I were among some of the thousands of people who visited Duluth this holiday season to walk through the wonderful waterfront light display “Bentleyville.” It truly is a delightful addition to a beautiful city. I really like Duluth—if I had to live in a city, I wouldn’t mind living there. I like Duluth’s funky mix of new and old architecture built into the hillsides. I like the scenic Skywalk System weaving through hotels and banks and medical centers. And I really like the Lakewalk meandering through the hustle and bustle of Grandma’s Sports Garden and the High Bridge to the stately Rose Garden and finally to Fitgers.
I especially like Duluth at Christmas time, at least downtown Duluth. The brilliantly decorated streets and sidewalks are incredible. I understand why some musical soul penned the catchy little Christmas City of the North
song.
Bentleyville is a superb addition to the Christmas City. I love that in addition to the usual Christmas-themed decorations at the holiday light exhibit, there were only-in-Minnesota attractions— ice fishermen, dogsleds, and even the only-in-Duluth ore boat and High Bridge display!
And of course, the highlight, in middle of it all, is the giant Christmas tree—taller than the tree at Rockefeller Center in New York—lights sparkling brightly in time to Christmas carols. It is beautiful. It is amazing—but it’s not a tree!
Chuck and I chuckled when we heard the first report of the huge steel structure being assembled at Bayfront Park. 120 feet tall? 17 tons of iron? As tall as the nearby Medical Arts Building? 50,000 LED lights? Where had we heard this before? In Indianapolis!
Downtown Indianapolis is an attractive urban location, rivaling downtown Duluth. There are sections of Indianapolis that are inhospitable, but downtown—Monument Circle—is lovely. There, at the center of the busy city, surrounded by a mix of stately old buildings and glass-and-chromefronted high-rises, is the Indiana Solider’s and Sailor’s Monument. A 284-foot classical column built in 1901 to remember Indiana’s fallen soldiers and sailors. It is an interesting historical sight through most of the year. But at Christmas time it becomes something magical.
Every year since 1962, on the day after Thanksgiving, Indianapolis has hosted a giant party in Monument Circle with a tree lighting celebration. Thecircle is as crowded as Times Square on New Year’s Eve and there are roastedchestnut vendors and Christmas carolers and music and TV crews. We were fortunate to attend one year and it was an amazing Christmas tree lighting party. Except—it’s not a tree!
My dear brother-in-law, Bill Sprinkle, who passed away in 2003, was the one who insisted we attend the lighting ceremony. Bill loved Indianapolis. He loved showing off his city when we visited, taking us to the Indianapolis 500 Speedway Museum, the James Whitcomb Riley Museum, the impressive Indianapolis Masonic Temple— and to Organ Stop Pizza and of course, White Castle!
He also loved Christmas. Bill always took part in the decorating of his neighborhood. Wheelchair-bound from childhood polio, he couldn’t climb ladders to string lights, but he would recruit workers to do it and he collected donations to give out candy and hot chocolate. He was a Christmas elf.
And one of his favorite things was showing off his beloved city at Christmas time. That is how we ended up at Monument Circle the day after Thanksgiving to see the 4,784 lights on the monument turned on. Notice that I said the lights on the monument,
because as Bill Sprinkle would adamantly inform you if you said otherwise—“ It’s not a tree!”
All day as we prepared to go downtown, talking to cousins and neighbors about going to see the tree lighting, we would forget and say we were going to see the tree lighting. With a twinkle in his eye, Bill would holler, “It’s not a tree! It’s a monument with lights on it!”
His wife, Lois, my sweet and somewhat evil sister-in-law, would purposely torment him, loudly proclaiming that we better dress warm to go watch the tree lighting.
“It’s not a tree!” Bill would repeat, shaking his head in mock despair as Lois giggled.
It is a bittersweet memory. Remembering Bill’s feigned frustration at the world’s inability to distinguish the difference between a monument and a tree makes me laugh. But it also makes me miss him.
Bill would love Bentleyville. He would love visiting it with family. He would love all the lights, the music, and the giant Christmas tree—oops—the giant steel structure with lights on it!
Blessed is the season which engages the
whole world in a conspiracy of love.
Hamilton Wright Mabie
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