The "Here Comes Santa Claus, Here Comes Santa Claus, Right Down ...... Water Street" Story

It was an ordinary day. Thinking back to, oh maybe, 60 years ago. That's when mom started to take me to see Santa arrive in downtown Lancaster, PA. I was just a kid, naturally, but I can still remember waiting on West King Street to see Santa come up King Street to the Watt and Shand Department Store in Penn Square. The store was a grand old big four story building on the square. Santa would arrive in a steam engine from the Strasburg RR on Water Street, a block and a half West of the square, board a hook and ladder fire engine, and make his way up King to the center of town accompanied by a band from a local high school. I can still remember my excitement at seeing the smoke from the train and then the bright red fire truck coming up the street, sounding the siren and bell. Santa would be waving to me and all the other kids who had gathered to watch him. He was the REAL Santa, you know! After he reached the square he would wave and wave for the longest time, then the ladder would start to rise and the cheering would begin. Up, up he went to the top, stopping every floor of the store to turn around and wave to the crowd. I often wondered if he was afraid when he climbed the ladder. The weather was usually cold and sometimes windy as he climbed to the top of the building. When he reached the top, he would climb over the edge, turn around and wave again to the cheers of the crowd below. Then ...... he would disappear. Mom often would tell me that he needed to rest the remainder of the day and we would come back another day to visit with him and I could tell him what I wanted for Christmas. We always did return and found him in the basement of the building, sitting on his big chair with helpers all around him. My wife, Carol, told me it was much the same when she was a child, but she had more to tell. When she was in high school she played in the marching band and her high school, Penn Manor, would be the band that would traditionally usher Santa to the square after he had gotten off the train and boarded the fire engine. I remember that when she told me that the first Christmas after we were married, I looked at her puzzled, and said, "Do you remember me waving to you as you walked by mom and me?" Then I ducked as the book she threw sailed over my head. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.