In the late 1950s, the Christmas parade was a major event in Milwaukee. People would line the streets – row upon row. Small children would sit on the shoulders of a parent to get a better view of the many bands, floats and finally Santa Claus. The store windows were filled with animated characters and visions of sugar plums everywhere. Lights glistened as the parade began. Batons were flown into the air as the local marching bands played on. Wisconsin Avenue was the downtown of Milwaukee. We always did our Christmas shopping there. This was before all the big shopping malls popped up.

When it came to the Christmas parade, I had an advantage. Even though the winter season was already upon us, we could watch that same parade in the warmth of my grandmother’s apartment on Wisconsin Avenue. It was one of those places that you never forget.

Grandma lived in an old apartment building on the 3rd floor. I remember getting on the rickety old elevator, closing the gate which triggered the switch to engage it, and hoping we’d actually reach our destination. My grandma was a very cosmopolitan lady. She worked in a factory on an assembly line for most of the years I knew her. Her apartment always smelled like something good to eat was right around the corner. The scent of Evening in Paris cologne also filled the air. When she wasn’t at work, you could usually find her doing some kind of crafts at home. She made beautiful Christmas ornaments for each of us, along with handmade doll clothes. Her hands were always busy. I remember how classy she could be when all dolled up for a special occasion. She was a real beauty. Her thick hair was almost black – I assume she colored it. She donned a dark colored dress adorned with a string of pearls and matching earrings. Her dark, almost black eyes, would look deeply into ours and even though she never expressed her joy of being a grandmother, we always knew she loved us dearly.

Her apartment was not only the site of watching the Christmas parade, but when the Milwaukee Braves won the World Series, I brought all my friends to grandma’s place to witness the celebration in the streets from a safe location. Only a few years later, grandma would observe the race riots which altered lives in downtown Milwaukee and across the country. The large windows that looked down on the street below became a site for viewing all kinds of activity. Some memorable – some unforgettable – some things that never change.