[David Gibson, Img Lorna Bray]
In early December Dad would fire up the old 51 GMC and Dad, Charlie and myself would head for the forest to look for that perfect Silver Tip Fir for our Christmas tree. We would look at probably 100 trees before Dad would decide which one would be the best tree.
Sometimes we would have to wade through waist deep snow, cut the tree, drag the tree back to the pick up, and load it. We would head back home and unload the tree. We would shake it off in the driveway and add the base and take it into the house.
Back in these days we didn't even half to have a Christmas tree permit. From the time we left home until we returned would take several hours.
Once inside the Silver Tip was always just the right height and the scent of that beautiful Fir would fill the house.
Those are some of my earliest memories of the start of the Christmas season, and I miss the smell of those Fir trees. This would have been from the early 50's on until I left Placerville.
Merry Christmas Everyone, David Gibson.
