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 "Christmas Eve at Saint Stephen’s Church"

     The inspiration for this painting comes from a memory that has stayed with me for many years—the sight of people leaving Saint Stephen’s Church on Christmas Eve.

     As Mass ended, people would spill out through the doors and into the snowy streets. There was something special about those evenings. The cold air, the soft snow falling, the glow of the Christmas lights, and the warmth that seemed to follow everyone out of the church. Families and friends would gather together and begin their journey home, carrying with them that wonderful feeling of Christmas and the anticipation of Christmas morning.

      Knowing that the church where I was raised is facing demolition, I felt an almost overwhelming need to paint it—to capture it before it disappeared. But once I began, I realized I wasn’t simply painting a building. I was painting a time in our lives. I wanted to bring back some of the people, places, buildings, automobiles, and little pieces of everyday life that made our town—and my memories of it—so special.

     So, allow me to take you through the painting from left to right.

     First, you’ll see Aunt Bethany from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, holding the gift she wrapped. If you remember the movie, you’ll know that her gift is actually her cat. Next are Cary Grant and Loretta Young from The Bishop’s Wife. The woman beside them is simply a figure I added to help fill the scene.

     Then you’ll see Mr. and Mrs. Parker from A Christmas Story. The leg lamp should give you a clue. “It’s a major award!”

     The two girls in the foreground represent my mother and her good friend, Mary Firster. They first met on the very first day of seventh grade at Saint Joseph’s School and remained close friends their entire lives. Saint Joseph’s, high on the hill in the painting, is a familiar local landmark and a very special place in my own life. My wife, Laurie, and I were married there on New Year’s Eve in 1994.

     You’ll also see the State Street Bridge—the old, clanky bridge we used to cross on our way to junior high school. It was just an ordinary bridge to us back then, but looking back, those ordinary things often become the memories we treasure most.

      You knew Christmas was approaching when the Christmas streetlamps went up all over town. The clock is one of those little details I made up simply so I could set the time at 12:25. Sometimes, when you are painting a memory, the exact truth isn’t nearly as important as how the moment felt.

     On the north side of town, you can see the bank, which is now the Exchange Restaurant. The old Holiday Inn is also represented. It has since been torn down and will be replaced with a more modern restaurant and event center.

      Beside the former Senior/Junior High School is an older church, another piece of the town as I remember it.

      Below that, I painted a locomotive pulling a Pennzoil tanker car. I worked summer jobs at the Pennzoil refinery to help pay my way through college. That train is therefore more than just another object in the painting—it represents a chapter of my younger life and the people and places that helped shape me.

      Back on the south side is the red 1951 pickup truck that appears in many of my paintings. It belonged to my brother. I’ve included it in several paintings because, for me, it has become almost like an old friend—a familiar reminder of a time that can never quite be brought back.

      Then there is the Country Estates station wagon, my family’s mode of transportation in the 1970s. It was the car I learned to drive in—and also the car in which I had my first accident. I placed a Christmas tree on the roof, and I signed the painting on the license plate.

      Some memories make us smile. Some make us laugh. And some we don’t realize are precious until many years have passed.

       Saint Stephen’s Church dominates the composition, and I have to admit, it was quite a challenge to paint. More than anything, I wanted the stained-glass windows to glow. I wanted the church to feel alive again—to feel as though people had just stepped through those doors after Christmas Eve Mass.

      I also enjoyed illuminating the statue of Saint Stephen. I placed a bell in the tower, even though I honestly don’t remember there ever being one there. But somehow, it seemed right. Perhaps it belonged there in the church of my memory.

      I wanted the headlights of our station wagon to shine toward the manger scene that the church always placed at the base of the larger tower. That small pool of light is intentional—a little reminder of the light and hope that Christmas represents.

     On the left side of the church are Dolly Parton and her husband, Carl. Dolly passed away while I was working on this painting, and I felt compelled to include her. She always seemed to possess a wonderful spiritual warmth, and I felt that she belonged in this Christmas scene. I painted her wearing her famous “coat of many colors.” If you’ve never heard that song, give it a listen. And if you look closely at the license plate on the pickup truck, you’ll see 925, a small and personal tribute to Dolly.

      Finally, on the far-right side of the painting is Father Matt. He sadly passed away recently and was one of the last priests at Saint Stephen’s. Including him was my way of remembering not only him, but all the priests, parishioners, families, and friends who passed through those doors over the years.

    High in the sky, you’ll find the Star of David and Santa Claus with his reindeer crossing in front of the moon. They are reminders that Christmas means different things to different people yet somehow brings so many of us together.

And then there is the snow.

       The very last stroke of paint I added to this painting was the falling snow. I wanted the snowflakes to give the scene movement and atmosphere—to make you feel as though you could step into the painting, stand there on that cold Christmas Eve, hear the voices of people leaving the church, see their breath in the winter air, and perhaps even hear the crunch of their footsteps on the snow.

    When I began this painting, I thought I was painting Saint Stephen’s Church. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was simply painting our memories. I was painting the people who were once here, the places that are no longer here, the cars we once drove, the bridges we crossed, the streets we walked, and the Christmases we thought would last forever.

Buildings disappear. Streets change. People grow older, and eventually, some of them are gone. But memories have a remarkable way of staying with us. That is what I hope this painting does.

     I hope that when someone looks at it, they don’t just see an old church on a snowy Christmas Eve. I hope they see a little bit of their own past—a person they miss, a place they remember, a Christmas from long ago, or perhaps a moment when life seemed a little simpler.

     For me, Saint Stephen’s is more than a church. It is part of who I am. And although the building will soon disappear, the memories made inside and around it don’t have to.

     Thank you for taking the time to view my art—and, more importantly, for taking a walk through my memories and may all your Christmases be bright.

Merry Christmas, Fred