It had been just over one year since the devastating news of Pearl Harbor rocked the world. In December of 1942 residents of Lewiston-Auburn were still looking for guidance through a whole new perspective of life.
Santa Claus and Uncle Sam could be seen often joining forces in newspaper ads.
The Peck’s Christmas City ad showed a jolly Santa and patriotic Uncle Sam holding a large “V for victory” and it urged purchase of as many War Savings Bonds and Stamps as possible.
Uncle Sam is saying, “That’s what we all want most, Santa, but we know we have to work for it.”
The importance of the bus system of Lewiston-Auburn Transit Co. was never more evident than in the ads the company ran combining a commitment to serve the Twin Cities’ factory and mill workers with the Christmas shoppers who were crowding downtown stores on Lisbon Street and other localities.
The Lewiston-Auburn Transit Co. ad in the Dec. 12 issue of the Lewiston Evening Journal appealed to its patrons to solve problems of rushing and crowding. It said another way to help “for the duration” was for riders to “Do Your Christmas Shopping Early . . . in the Day.”
The ad explained that “Every day between 3:30 and 5:30 p.m. buses are crowded with workers who should be given riding priority. This is no time to be riding with sleds, skis and other large bundles. You will find your ride more pleasant if you plan your shopping trip so as to avoid riding during these hours,” and it added. “Help your fellow rider. Please step to the rear of the coach when standing.”
Air raid blackouts were another new reality of wartime, and the desire to display Christmas lights raised some interesting questions.
The newspaper ran a brief story stating, “Central Maine Power Co. has had no word to refuse electricity for such purposes.” Nevertheless, it emphasized that “The only restriction seems to be that no lights are to be left on when the occupant of the house is away from home because it must be possible to turn them off at a moment’s notice in case of a blackout.”
The Royal Crown Cola ad of The Vincent Co. Inc. in New Auburn ran a combination of product pitch with some interesting views about getting “your second wind.” It highlighted the vital roles of machine gunner and parachute makers.
In some advice for air raid wardens, it said,” When the siren sounds, see that all lights on your post are out. Shoo the curious indoors. Patrol your beat until the ‘all clear.’ Then reach for a frosty soft drink, and breeze right through your report.”
I still have a warden’s pie-plate shaped helmet that was issued to my grandfather or father when he had air raid warden duty in Auburn. I remember seeing the cards with silhouettes of enemy aircraft which were supposed to aid identification in possible attack sightings.
My wife Judy also told me her grandfather was a warden in the Perkins Ridge area.
So, with all these new elements of wartime life in L-A, the Christmas season still held its promise for family and the future.
In those days leading up to Christmas 1942, the area’s residents took part in many of the traditions. Many Christmas trees were offered at local lots from 25 cents, 50 cents and $1, “including stand.”
There was a reassuring choice of movies and entertainment to be enjoyed.
The Jimmy Lunceford Orchestra was playing a one-time Maine engagement at the Lewiston Armory. The local Lloyd Rafnell Orchestra was putting on a Victory Dance at the Armory on Dec. 18 with war bonds as prizes.
The Empire Theater was showing the Technicolor feature “Thunder Birds” with Gene Tierney, and the Stand’s movie was “Moonlight in Havana” with Allan Jones, Jane Frazee, William Frawley and The Jivin’ Jacks and Jills.
There were lots of local parties announced, as well as events such as the Bates College Vespers at the chapel.
Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and a native of Auburn. He may be reached by sending email to [email protected].
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