Long Beach Christmas: Ahoy, Thar She Glows

It was a moonless night over the Colorado Lagoon, perfect for the occasion. Christmas carols filled the air. Chatting along the shore of the inland waterway were about 300 festively dressed people. They hushed as the countdown began.

Then, the dark lagoon was alight, as 11 “trees” glowed with bright Christmas bulbs. The residents of this Long Beach neighborhood burst into applause.

“Ta-da!” proclaimed a little girl in the crowd, clapping her mittens.

This is the 53rd year that holiday trees have floated on Long Beach’s waterways.

A tradition begun in 1949 with one real Christmas tree on Alamitos Bay has grown into 71 tree-shaped wooden pyramids on pontoons anchored around the city. It is a holiday tradition kept afloat financially by residents.

Strung with multicolored lights, the trees grace several harbors, bays, lagoons, city park lakes and the dockside of a private condominium complex.

From Thanksgiving through December, depending on neighborhood preference, the lights are switched on nightly, the electricity costs borne by residents’ groups sponsoring the trees.

The season began, as it does every year, on Alamitos Bay, where the lights went on Thanksgiving night, much to the delight of several families who chased their dogs or kids at low tide, admiring the 18-foot-tall trees from the Belmont Shore beach fronting the bay.

A residents’ group, Trees on the Bay, is responsible for many of the floating trees, with 24 on both sides of the 2nd Street bridge connecting Belmont Shore with Naples Island. Over the years, Trees on the Bay has raised its funds in various ways. A local artist who illustrates T-shirts with floating trees makes donations from his sales to the group.

“We have had garage sales, bake sales, you name it,” said Marlene Middough, head of the group. “Back in the earlier days, we did everything. I used to have to replace light bulbs myself.”

In 1949, a restaurateur, Don May, unknowingly began a tradition when he whimsically floated a real Christmas tree in Alamitos Bay, which is on the east side of the city.

May lived in Belmont Shore, where he owned a Hawaiian-themed restaurant on 2nd Street, a place memorable for its Polynesian cocktails and brothel decor. Longtime residents said it closed years ago. Legends restaurant and sports bar occupies the spot now. But in its heyday, May’s restaurant was a popular hangout, and he was a larger-than-life personality.

Word spread about his tree, and the practice continued each year. In 1953, living trees were replaced by the wooden triangles, although no one involved today can remember why. May died a few years ago.

For a number of years, the city picked up all the costs. But in the early 1970s, the energy crisis threatened to kill the program, said Chris Sanburg, the city’s marine maintenance supervisor who oversees the triangle trees.

Residents came to the rescue. Homeowner groups paid the cost of illuminating each of the wooden trees -- about $150 per tree. The city pays for towing the trees out of storage and provides maintenance.

Over the years, the number of residential groups sponsoring trees has grown to five. The trees can now be found in Alamitos Bay, fanning out from the 2nd Street bridge and along the channel between Naples Island and the peninsula; in Rainbow Lagoon and Rainbow Harbor near downtown; on Spinnaker Cove and in the lakes of El Dorado and Heartwell parks.

And, of course, in the Colorado Lagoon, which meanders around the Belmont Heights neighborhood inland from the shore.

The night the trees were lighted in the lagoon this year, residents of the Heights and other parts of the city met at a party which itself has grown into a tradition over the last 14 years.

Outside the lifeguard office draped with twinkling lights, a table was decorated and covered with cookies and hot cider that never ran out, despite the large crowd. Last year’s turnout was slightly bigger than this year, which was attributed to the rain forecast (it came later) and Hanukkah falling on the same night.

The lighted trees, mirrored in the water, helped illuminate the beach in front of the lifeguard office, where people bundled in sweaters and mufflers discussed holiday shopping, family visits and the latest developments in the battle over the lagoon’s water quality, over which the residents have sued the county of Los Angeles.

Two choirs from Woodrow Wilson High School sang holiday songs. A fire engine with siren blaring arrived with Santa Claus aboard. While the fire engine was a great attraction for little boys -- one 3-year-old threw his arms around the bumper -- Santa was the main event.

Within yards of the twinkling trees, a long line stretched across the beach with children who sat with Santa and made their Christmas delivery specifications. Each child got a candy-filled stocking and a framed Polaroid memorializing the moment.

Tom and Lou Gallagher have come to mark the tree lighting since it started more than a decade ago.

Heights residents for 30 years, they have brought various grandchildren over the years. But this year, the couple -- she 81, he 83 -- made the party alone.

“When you drive by it,” he said of the lagoon, “it looks just wonderful.”