Making a Bid for a Perfect Pine
It wasn’t a scene likely to show up on any holiday greeting card.
Instead of a woodsy winter wonderland, there were a pair of scruffy boxcars parked on a railroad siding in a gritty factory district near downtown Los Angeles.
Rather than a chopping sound muffled by snow-covered pine boughs, there was a loud voice calling out: “Gimme 20! Twenty, 20, 20! Do I hear 21?â€
Belinda Mason’s search for the perfect Christmas tree the other night had taken her down an unexpectedly nostalgic pathway: Alameda Street.
“This is a family tradition for me,†Mason said as she tightly hugged her 2-year-old daughter, Jessica. “I’ve been coming to the Christmas tree auction every year since I was her age. Now I’m bringing my own family.â€
Trees have been shipped to the Alameda rail yard each December since 1931, when a produce dealer decided to try to sell them as an experiment. About 900,000 are expected to pass through this season--most going on to tree lots and supermarkets around the Southland.
For the past 33 years, however, Douglas firs grown on Oregon tree plantations have been sold straight from boxcars by Holiday Tree Farms auctioneers, who claim that these are the freshest and cheapest pines in town. This year, about 40,000 will go for prices averaging about $8 below retail.
“Bring me some 7-8s!†auctioneer John Pischke of Whittier yelled into one of the boxcars--which ironically had been refilled earlier in the day with trees delivered to Alameda Street by truck. These days, that’s faster than rail.
Teen-age worker Tommy Gallarzo emerged with an eight-foot tree. When he snipped away twine tied around its middle, its glistening green branches seemed to spring to life.
“Fluff it out and walk it around, guys!†Pischke commanded as the bottom of the tree trunk was pounded on a wooden platform. Another worker slowly turned it so the crowd of about 50 could see all sides. “Look, it’s a perfect tree,†Pischke said.
Bidding started at $29. In seconds, $30 was offered. Then $31, $32 and finally $33.
Donald Mason, a Los Angeles school police officer who lives in Corona, was the high bidder. “My son is the one who spotted this tree,†he said.
“I liked it because it’s big and tall and fat,†7-year-old Jonathon Mason said.
Belinda Mason grinned. The family tradition was continuing.
