Mountain Views News, Sierra Madre edition

Sierra Madre Edition

View Pasadena Edition

Inside this Week:

Community Calendar:
SM Calendar of Events

Sierra Madre:
Walking SM … The Social Side
… This and That

Shop Sierra Madre:

Pasadena – Altadena:
Altadena Crime Blotter
Pet of the Week

Arcadia · Monrovia · Duarte:
Arcadia Police Blotter
Monrovia Police Blotter

Best Friends / The World:
Happy Tails
Christopher Nyerges
Out to Pastor
Katnip News!
SGV Humane Society

Food & Drink:
Chef Peter Dills
Table for Two

Education / Good Life:
Senior Happenings

F. Y. I. :

Section B:
A Message from SM Search & Rescue

Arts and More:
Jeff's Book Pics
All Things
Family Matters
The Missing Page
The Joy of Yoga

On the Lighter Side:
A Word from the Publisher
Tom Purcell
The Funnies

Legal Notices (1):

Legal Notices (2):

Legal Notices (3):

Legal Notices (4):

Legal Notices (5):

Jeff Brown
Deanne Davis
Peter Dills
Marc Garlett
Lori A. Harris
Susan Henderson
Katie Hopkins
Chris Leclerc
Christopher Nyerges
Rev. James Snyder
Keely Totten

Recent Issues:
Issue 50
Issue 49
Issue 48
Issue 47
Issue 46
Issue 45
Issue 44
Issue 43
Issue 42
Issue 41
Issue 40

MVNews Archive:  Page 1

MVNews this week:  Page 1



VOLUME 12 NO. 51


Imagine Snow In Sierra Madre!

Washington Irving was one of the earliest authors 
in America to gain acceptance in England, so he 
was called the first American man of letters. Irving 
was born on April 3,1783, arriving a few months 
before the conclusion of the Revolutionary War. 
The newly formed nation, The United States of 
America, was only a sparsely populated place of 
three million citizens. Entering a world before 
the invention of trains, telephones, radios, and 
the primary communication of this period, 
handwritten letters, Irving generally required 
weeks, or months, for a delivery of any distance. 
In the publication of “Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van 
Winkle,” Washington Irving received acclaim, and 
inserted his name alongside the greatest authors of 
his era. 

 Washington Irving was born in New York, but did 
not attempt to inspire America with reminders of 
their own Christmas customs, which he believed 
lacked the irresistible merriment befitting the 
day. His ambitions yearned to fashion Christmas 
as a superior season of love. In the earnest hope 
of encouraging this philosophy, and exposing 
America to the more sophisticated traditions of 
thought, Washington wrote of England, and those 
ancient rituals which had mysteriously gone out 
of practice in the commonwealth of their own 

 The limits of space award me but a modest 
mention of this eminent man of America. It is 
impossible for two paragraphs to convey the 
appropriate praise deserving of an author who 
immortally amuses and whose dialogue has never 
lost the ability to teach. In truth, the whole of a 
Sunday newspaper is incapable of characterizing 
the enormity of Washington Irving’s influence 
upon America and the world. Let us then, for the 
sake of Christmas, turn to the season at hand, 
and rummage through the treasure chest of his 
Christmas writings.

 With the morning’s crow of the rooster, he 
abandon his bed, and by the dark hour of evening, 
he toiled beside the rippling illuminations of 
candlelight. The industry of his labor emanated 
from his belief in the necessity of Christmas, and 
the liberal transmission of charity, kindness and 
cheer. Washington Irving was a significant donor to 
the modern notion of Christmas, our enthusiasm 
for the day, and the whole of the Holiday Season. 
Thanks to his benevolent dream, Christmas has 
become the time- honored tradition where we are 
most affable to the ideas of charity, and attentive to the bonds of the human heart. 

 The estate of Bracebridge, the island of England; and the day of Christmas, is where Washington 
Irving begins our journey. As is tradition, the fireplace has been lit with the yule log, being the charred 
remnants of last year’s Christmas fire. The squire of the house is seated upon his ancient chair beside the 
fireplace. The flames brighten against the storyteller’s face. He is a man of a million jokes, a clown who 
makes the children laugh, and a compelling historian of the family’s past. He is an encourager to all 
who promotes and passes along the sentimental ideas of Christmas. The great gathering is composed of 
family and friends, and they delight in laughter, dancing, music and the sacred songs of Christmas past, 
which tender a reverent comfort to all who have the pleasure of this night. In the studied observance 
of ancient customs, the silver is brought forth, and the dinner table is filled with the abundant horn of 
plenty that is rumored to exist in the estates of this type. After the sixth course is removed from the table, 
a wonderful spirit of health and a deepening sense of the season is tasted in the spiced pies that flourish 
upon their dessert plate. 

 Let us move away from England to another Christmas. It is well established in the writings of 
Washington Irving that he loved the wilderness. The reader encounters many episodes of exodus from 
civilization in his stories, and the call of an invitation into the mysterious woods of nature. Let us ride 
with Washington Irving as he travels in his native New York, to dine with a friend on Christmas.

 Washington Irving’s sleigh progressed under the graceful virtues of the horse’s hooves. Their rhythmic 
strides drummed in the expressions of an earthly orchestra, which appeared to delicately dance over the 
newly fallen snow. With his jacket buttoned high, his hat upon his head, and his woolen scarf draped 
tightly around his neck, Washington penetrated the world of winter. His eyes observed in solitary 
reflection, and his tuffs of chocolate brown hair determinedly curled past his ears in the meditation of 
his nose. At the entrance of the forest, his horses accelerated with excitement, dashing past trees that 
were once green with life, but now stood as white as granite mountains. Beneath this wooded world, 
Washington peered through the trees as one must through clouds to see the sun, utterly rendered in the 
curious instincts of a child -- ever hopeful that he might encounter the needles of an evergreen branch, 
exposed by the hand of wind or the weight of its own snow. With sight as eager as eagles, he probed the 
snowy world beneath the limbs for the miniature pitter-pattering of squirrel tracks. Looking deep into 

the hills of the distance, he searched for the pointed antlers of a deer. 

 Amongst these cold confines of nature came the warmest thoughts of Irving’s mind. The horse 
turned alongside the banks of the river, where a cluster of different trees flourished. Still lingering in 
Washington’s mind were the memories of October, and those exalted chameleons of color, in leaves that 
started orange and changed to gold, before ultimately surrendering to red. Now empty of every leaf and 
pitifully plucked as a peacock, the old limbs of the sugar maples were bald with winter. The leaves now 
substituted for the crystal whiskers of winter and the splendorous sight of icicles decorating branches. 
Past these ornaments of ice, emerged the symphony of the river – a rebellious river that disobeyed the 
commandments of winter and refused to be frozen. The rushing sound of water past rocks tickled his 
ears and gave comfort to his soul.

 Every glint of snow deepened the reverent understanding of Washington Irving for the celestial 
kingdom to come. He was mesmerized by the miracles of winter and the elegant art it etched upon the 
world. He deemed the snowy landscape with its avalanche of diamonds to be the holy work of angels, 
delicately sprinkled upon the earth, in the exalted aim of inspiring a vision of Heaven. The world has 
been made wise by those authors of old, who heralded the news that the kingdom of Heaven exists with 
eternal celebration, laughter and devoid of tears. 

 Might we consider in this season of peace, and upon the blessed day of Christmas, the great treasure 
bestowed upon all creation in blessed birth of Bethlehem. If we were afforded the power of gathering 
every gift of Christmas and measuring every peaceful thought it had placed upon the world, it might 
improve us by knowing that it is but a single drop of pleasant rain when weighed against that inestimable 
ocean of grace. That is the gift of God on Christmas Day.

May your journey be guided by the light of a star.

Merry Christmas, Craig Hakola 

Artist Sonny Salsbury created this painting depicting snow in Sierra Madre at Christmas. His caption, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice?” 
reflects the sentiments of many a child and adult alike. Salsbury is also a Grammy nominated musician who was born in 
Pasadena. He is the brother of local businesswoman Judith Brandley, owner of Leonora Moss in Sierra Madre.

Christmas/New Year’s Holidays

Please be advised that beginning at 2:00AM on Saturday, December 
15th, 2018 there will be a City wide exemption for parking 
related to Permit Parking and Overnight Parking. This Exemption 
will extend until 2:00AM on Wednesday, January 2nd, 2019, 
in observance of the Holiday Season. Please note that safety violations 
related to parking will be enforced 24/7.

There will be Officers staffing the SMPD, 24/7 to handle enforceable 
parking issues and safety violations during these times.

***SAFETY VIOLATIONS*** (e.g. Red Zones, White Zones, 
Blue Zones, parking violations obstruction egress/ingress to the 
roadway or sidewalk).








Mountain Views News 80 W Sierra Madre Blvd. No. 327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.609.3285 Email: Website:

Useful Reference Links

Mountain Views News 80 W. Sierra Madre Blvd. #327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.604.4548