My memories of South Philly in the 1970s - colorful, vibrant and neighborly, especially over the Christmas holidays.
Nothing in my casual rural childhood or relaxed college life prepared me to move into the Italian section of South Philadelphia in 1972. Everything was unexpected. Most people wouldn’t rent to single women. Finally, armed with an Italian last name and a reference from a neighborhood co-worker, I found a landlord who believed the only reason I didn’t live with my parents was I had to relocate for work. Having proven I was a ‘Good Girl’ and not a “Puttana”, I was allowed entry to what at first seemed to be a throwback to a bygone era.
For-sale signs were taboo. The well-maintained row houses sold by word of mouth to relatives or close friends. Everyone was Italian. The sparkling clean exteriors often concealed opulent interiors featuring large waterfalls and plastic slipcovers. Italian was spoken as often as English. I felt like a stranger in a strange land.
There was a lot to discover - the open-air market on 9th Street, grape crates stacked in front of homes during wine making season, serenades, the rivalry between Pat and Gino’s steak shops, unassuming corner bars offering some of the best food in the world, and a local politician who guaranteed no-one ever paid a parking ticket.
While I found South Philly exotic throughout the year, I was completely blown away by their winter holiday celebrations. Believe it or not, I had never heard of the mummers parade. Shocked friends eagerly taught me the mummer strut, showed me the clubhouses where the women made the costumes, told me I had to kiss the clowns if they asked and woke me up bright and early for the parade. I couldn’t understand the hoopla while the clowns passed by, but then I spied the first fancy brigade. Unbelievable! The feathers, the sequins, the makeup and masks, the oversized headdresses and the hand pulled floats added up to a modern-day fairy tale punctuated by visits to neighboring homes to warm up with wine, food, and good company. By the time the String Bands appeared, I already understood the fame and pride.
Somewhere along the line, I started to embrace my new home and love its unique culture, color and vibrancy. While I appreciated all the things it was famous for, I was most impressed by something the natives took for granted - the outdoor Christmas decorations. For miles, neighbors on each block worked to ensure their homes presented a coordinated light show. People created canopies on some blocks by stringing lights across the street from opposing upstairs windows. Porches on other blocks were extravagantly decorated exactly alike. A few blocks had islands featuring Christmas scenes worthy of being Broadway musical sets. It was a feast for the eyes, a true winter wonderland. Long after I moved away, I would return to visit my dearest friend for our annual Christmas Light Tour.
Seeing holiday lights is one of my favorite holiday traditions. I’ve enjoyed many outstanding displays including some that have been professionally designed. But none have ever touched me like those in mid-century South Philly. They were not only spectacularly beautiful but also exemplified the neighborhood’s sense of unity and community pride that I have never seen matched elsewhere. Those lights still shine brightly in my mind reminding me of the true spirit of Christmas. While they may not have been able to provide peace on earth, my old South Philly neighbors found a way to show goodwill to all.
What a wonderful memory for you! And it was enlightening for me as, though I had heard of the mummers, I didn't understand what all the celebration was about. Thank you for explaining it. I wish I could have experienced it through your eyes!
As they say in Irish, "Nollaig Shona Duit." Merry Christmas to you!
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