Each child talked to Santa and was asked to sing a song. Santa Claus, with real white hair, whiskers, and red velvet suits with white fur trim. Marking the entrance to the North Pole Village were Mr. Marshall Field’s department store had a giant Christmas tree, rising high up through the huge store. Midnight the Cat would mew “Nice,” and Squeaky the Mouse would start the music box. “Plunk your magic Twanger, Froggy!” said Smilin’ Ed McConnell to his Buster Brown gang. But the stories on the radio were mine: Bomba the Jungle Boy, The Green Hornet, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon, Tom Mix Ralston Straight Shooters, and Captain Midnight. He had a theme song, “Near You,” that he played every day at the beginning and end of his show. He never stopped playing the piano under the dialogue. He played the piano, sang, gave the news, the weather, and a sort of running commentary. The stories and music of the radio came from far away, but every afternoon there was a show that came from Chicago: “Two Ton” Baker, the Music Maker. Like the cowboy songs of Gene Autry and Red River Dave, each song told a story of a remote place and time. My mother would sit at the upright piano, playing and singing song after song off old pieces of sheet music from her past. Sometimes in the morning it would be the first thing I heard, shutting out the sounds of reality-the traffic outside the window and the people moving around. I don’t know when I first heard the music in my head. If you've got Dickinson, you don't need anybody else.
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