Cold Open

It’s December 24th, 1923, on The Ellipse, in the President’s Park outside the White House in Washington, D.C.

Secret Service Agent Richard Jervis scans the enormous crowd that’s gathered on the lawn. His eyes flick from face to face. Most people are wrapped up in hats, scarves, a long coats. And that makes sense—it’s a cold afternoon. But Jervis knows it would also be the perfect way to conceal a weapon.

As the Chief of White House Security, such thinking is second nature to Jervis. Tall and stern-looking, he is the one person who even President Calvin Coolidge has to obey.

Right now, Coolidge is standing with his wife and two teenage sons, looking up at the huge fir tree that is the reason they’re all here. Nearly 50 feet high, this tree was cut from the Green Mountains in Coolidge’s home state of Vermont. And in the dimming late afternoon light, Jervis can make out the thousands of light bulbs draped across its branches, just waiting for President Coolidge to do the honors.

Jervis checks his wristwatch. It’s just before 5 PM, when the ceremony is scheduled to begin. And he’s nervous—this entire event is a security nightmare. But at least Coolidge won’t be making a speech afterwards. If everything goes well, he can get the president back into the safety of the White House in only a few minutes.

The crowd quiets as the bell in the Old Post Office Tower, a few blocks away, rings out. President Coolidge is handed an electrical switch, and on the fifth strike of the bell, he presses the button.

In an instant, the tree erupts in light. But Jervis keeps his eyes on the crowd. But as the colorful bulbs and electric candles come to life, there’s only joy to be seen in the people's faces. Trumpets sound, and people begin to sing a Christmas carol. Eventually, even Richard Jervis has to smile.

President Calvin Coolidge will enjoy a quiet Christmas alongside his family, close friends, and, of course, his bodyguard, Richard Jervis. And as the First Family celebrates inside the White House, outside, the first National Christmas Tree will shine like an island of light in the darkness. From then on, in times of war and in peace, the White House Christmas tree will return almost every year as a new holiday tradition that began on this day, December 24th, 1923.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is December 24th, 1923: America’s First National Christmas Tree.

Act One: The Seed of an Idea

It’s December 4th, 1923, at the White House in Washington, D.C., just under three weeks before Christmas Eve.

Lucretia Walker Hardy walks through the West Wing, her shoes barely making a sound on the thick carpet. At 50 years old, Lucretia is the acting director of D.C.’s Community Center Department—a local body responsible for public facilities and events. She’s come to the White House to meet Presidential Secretary Bascom Slemp. She has an idea she wants to discuss.

There’s been a Christmas tree in the White House every year since 1889. But it’s always been part of the private celebrations of the sitting president and his family. Lucretia wonders now, though, if it’s time for President Calvin Coolidge to make more of a statement.

It's been five years since the end of World War I. And it’s been three years since a deadly flu pandemic swept the nation. And Lucretia feels that it’s only now that the United States is emerging from the shadow of those terrible events. She thinks a public display of Christmas spirit is just what the country needs.

After a short wait, she’s shown into an office and greeted warmly by Secretary Slemp. He’s a slender man in his mid-fifties, with a long face and heavily-lidded eyes. Behind his polite smiles, however, he has bad news. They simply can’t put up a tree on the White House lawn. The First Lady has already arranged a concert for Christmas Eve, when a local choir accompanied by the Marine Band is scheduled to perform. Having a second public event would just be too much. But Slemp can offer a compromise—a tree can be placed nearby on The Ellipse instead.

Lucretia is disappointed. She doesn’t think The Ellipse has the same symbolic value at all. But she’s determined not to give up yet. And she has an unlikely-seeming ally.

The Society for Electrical Development is a group of power companies that wants to encourage the use of electricity by ordinary Americans. For over a decade, their pamphlets and advertising campaigns have informed people how electricity can make their lives and jobs easier.

And while they are not as interested as Lucretia in community events or the Christmas spirit. They are interested in revenue and profits. So they joined Lucretia's campaign to persuade the President to put up a national Christmas tree. Because there would be no better example of the wonders of electricity than a beautifully lit tree standing beside the White House. The electrical companies are convinced that once people see their president decking his tree out with colorful electric bulbs, they’ll rush to do the same.

So, a few days after Lucretia’s meeting at the White House, Secretary Slemp has another visitor. This time it’s a Senator from Vermont. He’s been convinced by the Society for Electrical Development to throw his weight behind their campaign. And he goes to the White House armed with a new offer—a 48-foot fir tree provided by a liberal arts college in Vermont, completely free, and the alumni association has even promised to pay for its shipping.

The Christmas Tree campaign now boasts the backing of local officials in the capital, a growing national industry, and a prominent Senator. But Secretary Slemp still stands firm. There will be no tree on the White House lawn.

Disappointed, Lucretia and the others are forced to accept the original offer of a spot on The Ellipse instead. But they do secure one compromise. The lights will be switched on in person by President Coolidge himself. The tree might not be right outside the White House, but with his compromise, it will still be linked directly to the President in the eyes of the people.

So with the deal done, preparations can get underway. And they have just days to arrange everything. The huge fir tree has to be transported 400 miles. Power cables have to be laid across the lawn of The Ellipse. And the people of Washington need to be informed that a new holiday celebration is coming.

It’s a lot to do, but on Christmas Eve, 1923, the President will emerge from the White House, walk the short distance to the Ellipse, and switch on the lights in front of a crowd of thousands. He’ll do the same the following year and the year after that. A new annual tradition will be born that will mark the start of Christmas in the nation’s capital and light up the Washington night—even when the world is at its very darkest.

Act Two: War

It’s the evening of December 24th, 1941, at the White House in Washington, D.C., eighteen years after the first National Christmas Tree was lit.

British Prime Minister Winston Churchill stands among the white columns of the South Portico and watches as President Franklin D. Roosevelt speaks to a crowd gathered on the lawn below.

Once again, the time has come for the lighting of the United States’ National Christmas Tree. Since 1923, it's become an annual tradition, just as the original campaigners hoped. But this year is like no other. Less than three weeks have passed since the Imperial Japanese Navy launched a devastating surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, and now, the United States is at war.

There were many people who urged Roosevelt to suspend the lighting of the National Christmas Tree, for security concerns or because it felt somehow inappropriate. But Roosevelt rejected those calls. Now, to the chiming of a bell, he presses a button, and the crowd applauds as the enormous fir tree glows with lights. Roosevelt then tells the crowd on the White House lawn, and millions more listening at home on the radio, that observing Christmas during wartime is just as important as it is in peace. Because hope shines through the darkness and will lead them all on to happier times.

Standing in the shadows beside him, Churchill understands exactly what the president means. The United Kingdom has been fighting Nazi Germany for over two years already. And Churchill knows that national morale is as important to any war effort as the production of tanks or bullets—the story that leaders tell their people matters perhaps even more than the orders generals give their soldiers.

That’s partly why Churchill is here. He arrived in the United States two days ago, having secretly crossed the Atlantic on a battleship to meet with Roosevelt. They have already spoken at length about troop mobilization, fleet strength, supply convoys, and new fronts—but there is still much more to be done to shepherd Britain’s new ally into the fight. And even tonight’s ceremony has a part to play.

Americans are obviously grieving and angry after the attack on Pearl Harbor. They want revenge on the Japanese. But Churchill wants to make sure that they see the bigger picture—that they are now part of the same conflict as the one in Europe. That the Nazis and the Japanese are two sides of the same fascist coin.

The president concludes his remarks and introduces Churchill warmly, saying: “He and his people have pointed the way in courage and in sacrifice... And so I am asking my associate, my old and good friend, to say a word to the people of America, old and young, tonight.”

There’s a surge of applause as Roosevelt steps aside, and Churchill takes his place at the lectern. He slips on a pair of thick reading glasses and holds his speech. He looks out at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.

Addressing Americans as “fellow workers in the cause of freedom”, Churchill stresses the close ties between their nations and urges his listeners to steel themselves to defend liberty against tyranny. But above all, he tells them to enjoy the holiday. For everyone, but especially children, Christmas should be “an evening of happiness in a world of storm.”

Even from a hundred yards away, the applause of the crowd is deafening. After the cheers die down, carols ring out. Secret Service agents approach both leaders and quietly request that they step back inside the White House. But Churchill offers Roosevelt a cigar, which the president gratefully takes. And as the bodyguards retreat, the two men smoke on the portico, listening to the music and the carols for more than an hour. And then, finally, to the relief of the bodyguards, Churchill and Roosevelt go back inside.

It’s almost Christmas Day. But they have plenty of work to do. The two men spend the next three weeks planning. And by the time the National Christmas Tree is switched off in the New Year, they will have agreed on a shared strategy for the war. Three more Christmases will pass, but eventually, the light that tree represented will triumph over darkness. Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan will be defeated. Peace will return. And so too, will the National Christmas Tree.

Act Three: The Pageant of Peace

It’s December 17th, 1954, in Washington, D.C., thirteen years after Winston Churchill addressed the American people.

President Dwight D. Eisenhower stands on a stage and looks out over the crowd gathered on The Ellipse.

It's been three decades since the first National Christmas Tree was lit here. But interest in the lighting ceremony has waned in recent years. So, when a man from the Washington Board of Trade presented Eisenhower with a plan to revive it, the president was all ears.

The idea was the “Pageant of Peace.” Instead of a single tree being lit on a single night, the celebration would be a three-week-long festival of light. The National Christmas Tree would remain the centerpiece, but it would be surrounded by smaller trees representing all the States and territories, as well as America’s closest foreign allies.

Last month, Eisenhower gave this idea his go-ahead, and tonight, he’s been joined by thousands of spectators to turn on the lights and formally open the pageant. Between the trees, man-made snow covers the ground. Wooden walkways help guide visitors past a reindeer petting zoo, puppet shows, and a living nativity scene. Which Eisenhower can’t help smile when he thinks of. Some of the sheep from the nativity escaped into the city earlier in the day. He’s told that more than one was returned to the Ellipse in a police motorcycle’s sidecar. He wishes he could have witnessed that for himself. He’s seen plenty in his long career, but a sheep riding a motorcycle is something else.

The light fades, and then it’s time for Eisenhower to let the festivities begin. In the spirit of the season, he speaks of peace, mercy, and human dignity. His words are transmitted by television across the United States, and out into the world via the Voice of America radio station. Then, at 5:30 PM, President Eisenhower ends his speech by wishing his listeners a Merry Christmas and pressing the button that switches on the lights. The National Christmas Tree blazes with more than 2000 colored bulbs, and one by one, the rest of the trees in the pageant follow suit.

It’s a spectacular sight, and over the next three weeks, half a million people will visit the Pageant of Peace. And in years to come, this event will become part of Washington D.C.’s festive calendar, a beloved annual tradition that can trace its roots back to a far simpler ceremony, when a single tree lit up the night on December 24th, 1923.

Outro

Next on History Daily. December 25th, 1941. On his weekly radio show, the singer and actor Bing Crosby premieres a new song: “White Christmas.”

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Samuel Hume.

Edited by William Simpson.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.