An Exhausting Christmas Past

The story that follows, with minor changes, appeared in my memoir, “Days With The Dads: Recollections of a Small-Time Journalist,” which was published in 2008. Please read the conclusion with a grain of salt. I never again got the opportunity to play Santa, but I’d have done it in a heartbeat just to see the expressions of awe and joy on the little ones’ faces.

Best wishes to you and all the kids in your life for a wonderful holiday season.

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Ho, Ho, Ho. . . .No, No, No

It has been hard to escape Santa since merchants succeeded in advancing the holiday season to start right around Thanksgiving time.

You now can visit a Santa just about everywhere serious shopping is happening, rent one for the kids’ party, or be one after you buy an outfit complete with beard for $39.95.

Santas weren’t nearly so ubiquitous in 1957, but they did make plenty of appearances and I was among those on duty. No chimneys were involved in my appearance. It was a bigger deal than that. I arrived on Broadway Avenue in De Pere, Wisconsin, in a giant motorized sleigh pulled by plastic reindeer, courtesy of the  Chamber of Commerce.

In a discussion of how we at the Journal-Democrat were going to participate in Santa’s annual visit, a burning question was who would play the rotund one since publisher John Creviere was getting a bit old for the job. As the youngest, chubbiest, and most naive person around, I was volunteered.

The elder Creviere’s lengthy resume included work with amateur acting groups. He had a professional makeup kit and knew how to use it. He made 21-year-old me into a truly authentic-looking Claus, complete with rosy cheeks and a beard the little ones couldn’t pull off.

The children of De Pere certainly believed I was the real thing. Santa and a couple of helpers handed out 2,000 popcorn balls during the event. It was a very long day.

A photo, taken by Paul Creviere, of one handout to a cute little tyke appeared on the front page of our paper that week. That was pretty easy to pull off, since John owned the printing press, Paul was the general manager, and I was the editor.

It was the only time a photo of me ever graced the front page of a newspaper, and I couldn’t even identify myself in the caption!

Santa was totally pooped after passing out all the goodies and muttering nice things to the multitude of kiddies. When John started removing my greasepaint after handing me a shot of brandy, he asked how I was feeling about the whole thing. I was feeling like I never wanted to play Santa again.

Ho, ho,ho, but no thanks. I learned it was much more pleasant to admire the activities of the old gent from a distance than to occupy the suit. There are easier ways to get your picture in the paper.

A Worthwhile Tradition

Back in the late 1950s when the geezer edited the De Pere Journal-Democrat, a weekly paper in a small city near Green Bay, patriotism ran rampant at election time. De Pere billed itself as “The All-American City.”  The self-conferred title resulted from the amazing rate of voting by citizens.

In the election year I lived in De Pere, 98 percent of the eligible voters in the population of about 9,000 cast a ballot.

I don’t recall getting an “I voted” sticker at the polling place, but they weren’t needed. People, some perfect strangers, asked me throughout the day whether I had voted.  A standard comment was, “If you don’t vote, you have no right to complain.” Voting simply was something everyone did in De Pere. There was no tolerance for those who skipped their civic duty.

At Journal Publishing, the owner toured the printing plant early in the day and told every employee to make sure to take the time off needed to go and cast a vote. Other business owners throughout the city were known to do that.

I don’t know if De Pere has maintained the “All-American City” tradition. I hope so. I do know only about half of the eligible voters in the U.S. are going to bother to cast a vote in our current very important presidential election.

Perhaps some friendly competition among cities to see which one can claim the voting title might do all of us a favor.

Look Out, Here Comes Tony!

The death of legendary Penn State football coach Joe Paterno produced a sports trivia story that brought back a memory of another gridiron hero and his relationship with Paterno.

The news story, in the Green Bay Press-Gazette, described a small chapter in Packers history new to me.  It seems Paterno almost was hired as the Packers head coach in 1970.  A dozen years earlier, I met one of the men who tried hard to make it happen.

A gentle man . . . most of the time.

Tony Canadeo was an outstanding halfback for the Packers, 1941-52, with a year off for military service. He was the first Packers runner to gain 1,000 yards in a season (1949), and is one of only five Green Bay players to have their jersey number retired.  Canadeo was voted into the pro football hall of fame in 1974. After his playing days ended, he was a popular TV announcer.  He also served on the Packers’ executive committee, which makes the big decisions for the team.

In 1958, because of my first professional job as editor of the weekly paper in De Pere, Wisconsin, I got an invitation to attend a banquet at St. Norbert College.  The college is in De Pere, which is only five miles from Green Bay. Although I didn’t have time to attend all the St. Norbert football games, I ran stories and photos provided by their public relations director.  That year, the Green Knights were undefeated, and my contact said the banquet was a special reward for the players, coaches, and media supporters.  The Press-Gazette sports editor also was invited in appreciation of the paper’s coverage of the team.  Tony Canadeo was to be the banquet speaker.

The PR man said I should come an hour early to a cocktail party hosted by the college president for Canadeo, the Press-Gazette man, and me.  Wow!  Every sports fan in the state knew who Tony Canadeo was, and as a 21-year-old novice small-time newsman I was awed at the prospect of conversing with the great man, a college president, and the leading sports journalist in the area.  It turned out to be an even more intimate gathering.  The Press-Gazette editor bowed out because of a last-minute emergency.

You never know what to expect from a sports star.  A good share of them can be pompous asses.  Others, including some of the most skilled athletes, are regular guys and gals. Tony Canadeo turned out to be one of the latter.  He quickly made me feel comfortable at the little party.  There didn’t seem to be a bit of super-ego in the man.  Far from the tough guy I half-expected, Canadeo was soft-spoken and polite. Ever since that meeting I’ve described him as a good-natured gentleman in discussions of the personalities of sports super stars.

In 1970, according to a story made public only after his death in 2003, Canadeo proved he could drop the calm demeanor and work up a rage with the best of them.

The Packers’ executive committee had fired the coach after a poor season.  When George Allen, their first choice as a replacement, declined the job, the committee interviewed several others and narrowed the choices to successful University of Missouri coach Dan Devine and Paterno, who was building an outstanding record at Penn State.

Paterno had turned down the coaching job with the Pittsburgh Steelers the previous year, but the Packers offered a combination coach-general manager situation.  Paterno apparently liked the idea of that kind of control.  Two reputable people later said Paterno would have taken the Packers job if it was offered, and one public statement he made indicated he was very interested.

The recent Press-Gazette story says Canadeo and another member of the executive committee strongly favored Paterno because the Penn State coach reminded them of Vince Lombardi, the iconic Packers coach.  Paterno and Lombardi both grew up in Brooklyn and were Catholics of Italian descent.  They knew each other dating to the 1940s when they were rival high school coaches.  In the 1960s, Lombardi often consulted Paterno about the abilities of college players.

Despite the Lombardi connection, Canadeo and his associate did not prevail.  The committee voted 5-2 to hire Devine.

When Canadeo heard the news, he became livid, the story goes.  As he left home for the next day’s executive committee meeting, he was so distraught he smashed through the garage door when he backed his car out into the driveway.  A daughter had used the car earlier and left the door up when she came home.  As Canadeo stormed out of the house, he didn’t notice and he hit the garage door opener button, closing the door just before he drove through it.

Devine compiled a dismal record at Green Bay.  Paterno became the top winning coach in college football history.  Perhaps the Packers’ executive board members should have listened to their old halfback who could destroy garage doors with a single mighty burst.