I'm Dreaming of a White House Christmas

Imagine the White House during Christmas 1789: George Washington and his wife sitting around a Christmas tree in the Oval Office, a newspaper artist sketching the festive scene, and Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas" over the phonograph.

If you can picture this, I would say, "Wow, you have a wonderful imagination." Unfortunately, that's where this scene will have to stay—in our imaginations. That's correct. I made the whole scene up, except for Christmas, 1789, George, and Martha. The rest are complete fabrications.

The first fabrication will be hard to believe, but George Washington and his wife never lived in the White House. I know – jaw-dropping news, but entirely true. The closest he came was during its construction, where I'm sure he stressed over permits and union breaks. I'm not saying Washington left office because of the stress. I'm just saying he refused to run for a third term even though he could have since there were no term limits then. But no matter the reason, he turned over the building project to John Adams (our second president, not just some random guy). Unfortunately, Washington passed a year before the White House opened.

The next fabrication is there were no phonographs. They're old, but not that old. Also, Bing Crosby? Not born yet. Heck, his grandfather wasn't born yet. However, it could be argued that "White Christmas" was a thing—maybe not a song, but definitely a thing.

And the final inaccuracy: newspaper artists. Early Americans labeled them as fake news and fired the entire bunch for manipulating sketches to promote their liberal agendas - I mean, Torry agendas. 

Okay, you got me. That last part isn't true. But I'm convinced there had to be a few old wig-wearing men at Hardee's complaining about how some newspaper sketch inaccurately portrayed the Boston Massacre—like erasing the British soldiers' guns or something. I'm sure of it, but unfortunately, I could not find any source material.

No, the final inaccuracy is the Christmas tree itself, and that's not fake news. The Christmas tree did not adore the White House for almost a hundred years after its completion. Well, technically, the second White House's completion. The British rudely destroyed the first.

A Christmas tree didn't grace the White House until 1889. It sat on the second floor in the Oval Room, used as a family parlor and library at the time. President Benjamin Harrison decorated the first White House tree with candles because he thought his grandchildren would like it.

I imagine the conversation between President Harrison and the groundskeeper went something like this:

"I need you to cut this tree and haul it upstairs to that odd-shaped room—you know the one I mean?"

"This tree? The one that weighs around 300 pounds? Upstairs?"

"Yes, Bob. Oh, and decorate it with candles. The grandkids will love it."

"Candles? On a tree? You know it's made of wood?"

"Of course! What else would it be made of? Seriously, Bob, I wonder about you sometimes."

Over the next few decades, the White House had Christmas trees some years and not others. It depended on the mood of the current president. Some liked them, while others pooh-poohed the idea. Teddy Roosevelt reportedly felt so strongly about cutting trees that he banned Christmas trees from the White House. However, President Scrooge eventually gave in when one of his kids covertly snuck a Christmas tree into his bedroom closet. Once discovered (Teddy could smell a fir tree a mile away), Teddy relented, touched by the Christmas Spirit. Had this been made into a movie, the camera would have zoomed out the bedroom window with Teddy and family singing "Oh Christmas Tree" until stopping outside the White House with "The End" written in cursive over the picturesque scene. But it wasn't, so don't go searching YouTube for it.

Eventually, the Christmas tree found a permanent home in the White House. First Lady Mamie Eisenhower began the tradition of placing a Christmas tree in the Blue Room. But not to be outdone, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy upped Mamie Eisenhower by creating a theme for the Blue Room Christmas tree that continues today. 

But that's not all, folks. The Blue Room Christmas tree, BRCT for short, has its own competition. That's right, The National Christmas Tree Association holds a contest every year to see which state will be lucky enough to have their tree in the Blue Room.

Now, don't laugh; it's a really big deal. I mean, I don't know personally that it's a big deal, but I can imagine it is. Picture with me dozens of BRCT hopefuls lining up before the judges, attempting to keep their nerves steady. A tree wouldn't want to shake off any needles. It would be so embarrassing. They practiced all year for this moment. The judges place light-weight ornaments onto each contestant, then move to heavier ornaments. One dropped ornament, and the journey ends for that poor BRCT hopeful. Finally, only one tree stands. The crowd goes wild. The Crowning Star is placed on the winner, and then the lucky tree is thrown onto a truck bed, strapped down, and driven hundreds of miles at breakneck speeds.

Only thirteen states have ever won. I suspect it's because they are the only states that participate. I assume New Mexico, Utah, and Nevada have never sent a BRCT hopeful. I could be wrong; my laziness prevents me from researching. I could give a list of all thirteen states and how many times they won, but that would be boring. Go to whitehousehistory.gov if you are curious. I'll just say that North Carolina leads the pack with fourteen wins, and I'm going to be honest, I wasn't expecting that. For some reason, I thought it would be Maine or Vermont. They seem more like BRCT states. I bet the judges come from North Carolina.

Sorry about that last accusation. I'm not trying to stir up trouble for the prestigious contest, but we must investigate a couple of controversies.

Two non-states won the contest. You heard me: two BRCTs came from somewhere other than a state. The first oddball winner came from New England. Seriously? New England? That's ambiguous. But that's not the worst of it. The tree was anonymously donated. No one knew exactly where it came from or who cut it down. Did the Secret Service at least check the trunk for explosives?

The other winner was unknown. It's actually listed as unknown on the whitehousehistory.com website. Absolutely nobody knew where this tree came from. The judges couldn't even assign a region. I don't know, but something smells fishy about all this. Are we expected to believe the tree strolled to the contest like Tolkien's Ents? Did it sign the entry forms? I mean, come on! Nobody knows.

But it's in the history books, so it must be true.

Laying aside the occasional freak BRCT contestant, the White House's dedication to celebrating Christmas with beautiful-themed trees is inspiring. There is something comforting about knowing our presidents sit around a Christmas tree similar to the ones we sit around on the most significant day of human history—Jesus' birth. It's also comforting that they no longer use candles to light the White House's Christmas trees.