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2001-12-23-9:38 p.m.

The North Pole, a Warm Place

Mr. Jones lives around the circle and down the road from us. When the children have flats on their bikes, they go there and Mr. Jones will fix their tires and even oil their chains. He'll probably give them ice cream, too, or a coke. So they like to go to his house in the summertime, but they like to go to his house in the wintertime, too, because, at Christmas, Mr. Jones' house becomes The North Pole.

He says it all started with a tall, tall pole in the middle of his yard with long strings of lights strung from the top of the pole to the ground to make a Christmas tree of lights. People started driving by to see the "tree." Mr. Jones' son Jimmy, stricken with cerebral palsy at birth, loved all the people coming by so Mr. Jones lit the tree the next year, too. He gradually added other things: a Santa who does flips over a high bar, a miniature train (made of ice chests and a bucket) that's filled with stuffed toys and goes around and around, Santa's workshop complete with elves and tools and toys. Look! Santa's stuck in the chimney of the workshop. His legs are moving! I remember the year Mr. Jones added the stack of huge alphabet blocks and a Santa sitting on a rocking horse that's probably twelve feet tall. A real Santa sits in front of the blocks now and you can have your picture taken with him for five dollars. The money goes toward the Jones' electricity bill.

We've gone there every year that we've lived out here. It's a big part of our children's Christmas memories. If you look at Santa's list in the workshop you can see Abby's name. She signed it when she was maybe twelve. We have a picture of Santa and all the children who weren't sick with the flu that one year. And one time we got to go inside and meet Jimmy. We should have thanked him since he's the reason his dad goes to all this trouble every year!

He's the reason for the thousands and thousands of lights, for the dozen decorated Christmas trees in the Christmas tree forest, and the two snowmen on the see-saw, the animals playing cards. He's the reason for The Land of Misfit Toys, Santa and his reindeer flying up the guy wires of the electric pole, the lighted up carolers and the soldiers who play their drums. Jimmy's the reason for a wonderland that hundreds of people come see every Christmas.

If you came to our neighborhood right now, you could go see it. You'd see the fireplace in the workshop and you'd wonder why there was a black bow on one of the stockings. And you might think the Santa who does flips over a high bar has something wrong with it until you read the sign in front that says: This display not running in memory of our son Jimmy. You'd stop and read the rules, but this year you'd read something added in a corner of the marker board. It says: This light display is now put up in the memory of Jimmy Jones, April 18, 1971 - December 3, 2001.

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