wordy wednesday: a star in the east {december 20, 2023}

Back in its heyday, downtown Dayton bustled with people filling the streets, shopping at the many stores, going to the theater, and dining at the many fine restaurants. Christmastime was magical with all the displays in the store windows, most especially the Rike's windows. Nowadays, people celebrate and cling to the wonder years of the Rike’s department store Christmas windows, making the trip downtown to see the remnants of the past on display in the Wintergarden of the Schuster Performing Arts Center, which is on the site of the former department store. Then they walk over to the Stratacache Tower to see Virginia Kettering’s train display. One thing is certain, Dayton values tradition.

But a mile away, one quiet, humble and reverent tradition sits in the peripheral vision of Dayton residents.

There’s a star in the East (east Dayton, that is) located at St. Mary’s Catholic Church on Xenia Avenue, in the Twin Towers neighborhood. Each year, on the Saturday following Thanksgiving, parish members go through the laborious task of suspending this holiday landmark between the two towers of the church. The tradition has been passed down through at least 3 generations of parish families. 

There are no cranes or cherry pickers or specialized pieces of equipment used in this job. What may seem like an old fashioned way of doing things, it’s clear that this is more about the love and community of the St. Mary’s church family than it is a task. The morning of the job starts at 8:30 with a meeting in the basement for instructions, gearing up with tools, gloves and walkie-talkies. (Of course, doughnuts and coffee are an important part of the process). The ground team prepares the star and the guide wires to hold it in place as the teams in the towers are instructed via walkie-talkie to begin cranking the attached cables, in unison, raising the star evenly between the two. A team on the ground hold onto tails of rope on the bottom points of the star to keep it from swinging and hitting the church as it’s raised. 

On a balmy winter night, T and I took a drive to Xenia Avenue to see the star. Like many urban neighborhoods, it has changed. There were a couple guys walking down the street as I was taking some photos and as they passed us, one guy mumbled, "You know what street you're on? I could beat yo ass." But they just kept walking and that Christmas star just kept shining. I looked up at the star one last time, thankful that it warmed some hearts with a little Christmas spirit.