It took the dreams of a polio victim to set a Boyle Heights house ablaze with Christmas lights, delights and trainloads of real snow -- inspiring a homespun Yuletide tradition that shows no signs of stopping.
These days, holiday merrymakers are accustomed to lavish Christmas displays in places such as Candy Cane Lane in Woodland Hills and Naples Island in Long Beach -- the handiwork of some well-heeled people.
But George Skinner did it all himself, and he did it even though he didn't have a penny and couldn't walk without the help of leg braces and two canes.
In the bleak heart of the Depression, something about his tiny bungalow with its white picket fence at 919 S. Mathews St. epitomized Christmas. Or maybe it was the generous spirit of the man himself.
The house appeared on the front pages of local newspapers in 1936, drawing 80,000 visitors the first year and 100,000 the next, The Times reported. The display included twinkling lights, a cascading waterfall, a wishing well and a replica of Snow White's cottage. Carols serenaded passersby from an old phonograph.
Skinner's "Christmas House" is gone now, just like Skinner himself. But his indomitable spirit of bringing his community together spread throughout neighborhoods, his daughter says, inspiring today's Yuletide decorating.
In 1934, the Canadian-born Skinner was attending business college and living with his father, Albert, a tool-and-die maker, in Boyle Heights. He was young, strong and seemingly invincible.
Then, weeks after his 22nd birthday, while swimming laps at Los Angeles City College, he simply stopped. His girlfriend screamed for help as he began sinking to the bottom. He was pulled from the water nearly lifeless; he'd been stricken with polio, paralyzed from the neck down.
Skinner spent the next two years at Los Angeles County General Hospital, now Los Angeles County-USC Medical Center, where a 650-pound, casket-like iron lung encased his body and filled his chest with air.
Neighbors and church friends brought him homemade goodies, cards, letters and books. Moved by their generosity, he promised himself that he would one day repay them, somehow.
Skinner found inspiration in President Franklin D. Roosevelt, also a polio victim, and his famous weekly fireside chats. In one particular radio broadcast, Roosevelt spoke of the healing waters and hydrotherapy in Warm Springs, Ga.
