Texan Edge

Unwrapping the Christmas Songs

Tweed Scott Season 1 Episode 854

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Unwrapping the Christmas Songs — A Holiday Bonus Episode of The Texan Edge

Pull up a chair by the fire and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee — today’s bonus episode is a little different. I’m taking you back to my childhood in 1950s New England, where Christmas lived inside a paper carol book, a pair of cold mittens, and the magical songs that only showed up once a year.

Before Texas, before radio, before podcasts, those songs were my earliest holiday companions. And as life carried me from the snowdrifts of New Hampshire to the wide-open skies of the Lone Star State, those melodies traveled with me.

In this special holiday edition of The Texan Edge, we’re unwrapping the stories behind the songs — the history, surprises, legends, controversies, and even a wartime miracle or two. From the origins of “Silent Night” to the truth hiding inside “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” from Rudolph’s unlikely birth at Montgomery Ward to Irving Berlin’s towering classic “White Christmas,” this episode shines a warm light on the carols that shaped generations.

These songs aren’t just background music. They’re time capsules. And today, we open them together.

Merry Christmas, y’all — and thanks for spending a few minutes with me.

SHOW NOTES

What You’ll Hear in This Episode

  • A warm holiday welcome from Tweed and why bonus episodes matter
  • Childhood Christmas memories from 1950s New England
  • How ancient worship evolved into the carols we know today
  • Surprising origins of beloved classics like:
     • It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
    What Child Is This?
    We Three Kings
    Deck the Halls
    Away in a Manger
  • The famous (and maybe not true) story behind Silent Night
  • The stunning Christmas truce of World War I
  • Why The Twelve Days of Christmas is actually a secret catechism
  • The commercial and chaotic creation of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
  • The record-breaking legacy of White Christmas
  • A heartfelt closing reflection on tradition, hope, and the power of song

Why This Episode Matters

The Christmas songs we love aren’t just sentimental favorites — they’re windows into the lives, faith, struggles, and creativity of generations before us. This episode offers perspective, connection, and a reminder that the simplest things often hold the deepest meaning.

Perfect For

  • Christmas lovers
  • History buffs
  • Fans of American folklore and Texas-flavored storytelling
  • Anyone who wants a warm, reflective break from the holiday rush

Call to Action

If this episode brought back a memory or taught you something new, would you share The Texan Edge with a friend or family member? That’s the best Christmas gift you can give this show — and it means more than you know.

This isn't just a podcast, it's a Texas state of mind.

SPEAKER_00:

Hi there, it's Tweed Scott, and welcome to this special bonus edition of The Texan Edge, your daily dose of motivation, inspiration, and a touch of Texas spirit. Now, every so often I like to step off the well-worn trail to give you something a little extra, something worth pouring a fresh cup of coffee for. And today's bonus episode is just that. A holiday treat straight from my childhood, wrapped up in the songs that shape so many of our Christmas memories. You see, long before I ever set foot in Texas, before radio stations, before podcasts, before any of that, I was a New England kid in the 1950s, standing in the snow with a paper carol book in my mitten hands, wondering how in the world these songs came to be in the first place. Now those songs weren't just melodies, they were old friends who only visited once a year. So today I'm inviting you to pull up a chair by the fire and join me as we unwrap the stories behind the songs, the history, the surprises, the legends, and even a little wartime miracle or two. This is one of those episodes that reminds us how deeply tradition runs through the heart. Whether you were raised in Texas, New Hampshire, or anywhere in between. Well, okay, let's dig in. This is Unwrapping the Christmas Songs. Now, my early childhood and formative years took place in New England during the 1950s. Some of my earliest memories of Christmas actually were wrapped up in the music. I loved those songs. We heard and sang them only that part of the year. And then when they were gone, well, they were gone. And when next year came around and the songs reappeared, it was like meeting and greeting an old familiar friend. In those days, the headquarters of the John Hancock Insurance Company was in nearby Boston. Each year they put out a small paper booklet with all the Christmas carols in it. I remember singing from that book as a child. I went out singing Christmas carols for the neighbors with my mother and some of her friends. And later on, I did that on my own with some school friends. I love those songs. I must admit, though, in those days I never thought about where they came from. After I got into radio, I became fascinated, not with the artists so much, but with the songwriters. I often wondered why a particular song was even written. What was the story behind any song that caused it to be written? So what about the Christmas songs? Although we've been enjoying and singing them for years, have you ever thought about how the various Christmas songs came about? Christmas carols that you may have thought went back several hundreds of years are relatively new. Still others have fascinating stories surrounding their origins. Christmas carols go back to the time of Christ. It is believed that the apostles sang songs of praise based on the Psalms. The word carol comes from the old French word caroler, which means to dance in a circle. One of the very earliest Christmas songs appeared in the fourth century. Saint Francis of Assisi introduced carols into church services in the twelfth century. The songs tended to be on the somber side. In the 1400s, during the Renaissance, the time of Michelangelo and Da Vinci, the lighter, more upbeat songs began to emerge. The earliest known English carol appeared in 1410. The Gutenberg Press, famous for the magnificent Bibles, also made for a whole wide distribution of carols to the masses during that period. Also, in the mid-1400s, Christmas celebrations were strongly suppressed by the Puritans. Actually, Christmas didn't become a widely celebrated holiday until the 1800s, the Victorian era. As a result, most of the Christmas carols that we love today were composed then. In England, between 1649 and 1660, Oliver Cromwell, who believed Christmas should be a solemn day, banned the singing of carols. The Protestants, however, with the urging of Martin Luther, embraced the practice. Many worshippers fled Europe for other parts of the world, taking the music with them. John DeBraver wrote the first American Christmas Carol in 1649. It was called Jesus is Born. Dr. Edmund Spears, a Unitarian minister, wrote a poem in 1849. A year later, Richard Storge Willis, an editor and critic for the New York Tribune, wrote a melody called Carol, inspired by the poem. He had created It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. Although no one is completely certain, some research indicates that cowboy singer Montana Slim, whose given name was Wilf Carter, wrote Jolly Old St. Nicholas. Now the tune Greensleeves goes all the way back to the time of the original Queen Elizabeth. By 1850, however, the lyrics were added that were neither religious nor respectable. But in 1865, William Chatterton Dix wrote the Manger Throne. Three of those verses became What Child Is This? We Three Kings of Orion Are, usually thought to be older than it is, was actually written in America in 1857 for a Christmas pageant in New York City. An old Welsh melody is at the root of Deck the Halls. And although Mozart used that tune in a piano and violin piece in the 1700s, the words written in America would not come for almost another hundred years. The first two verses of Away in a Manger were originally published in 1885 in a Lutheran school book. James Murray published it in 1887 under the title of Luther's Cradle Hymn, leaving some people to think that Martin Luther had written it. No one is certain who wrote the music, but it too is to believe to be American. There's a bit of a controversy surrounding one of our most famous classics. Who among us has not heard the story of Silent Night? Still not. Folklore has a song being hurriedly composed on Christmas Eve in eighteen eighteen after it was discovered hungry mice ruined the baffles of the church organ. Joseph Moore, the assistant minister, supposedly quickly wrote the words and Franz Gruber composed the melody in time for the midnight service. That may only be folklore. Some evidence indicates now that an old manuscript which was recently discovered shows Gruber wrote the music two to four years after Moore had written the words. No matter, though, it has remained a favorite for nearly two hundred years. Silent Night is such a powerful song that it actually stopped a war. Well, for a while. During World War I, the Germans, Americans, British, and French troops actually put down their arms and held an unofficial truce on Christmas Eve and serenaded and harmonized with each other with the haunting melody. Old Little Town of Bethlehem was the result of Bishop Phillips Brooks being so impressed with singing Bethlehem at night, he wrote the words in Philadelphia two years later in 1868. His organist, Louis Radner, wrote the music for the Sunday School Children's Choir. Now Jingle Bells was written for a Thanksgiving program. It was so popular that the children begged to sing it again at Christmas. It's been a holiday fixture ever since. Now there is some controversy about the song, though. The composer John Pierpont is said to have written the song in Medford, Massachusetts in the eighteen fifties. He moved to Savannah, Georgia, where he received the copyright in eighteen fifty seven. The controversy stems from where he actually wrote it. Although he certainly wrote about his memories of growing up in New England, some factions in Savannah have provided a good case to show that he was in Savannah when he actually wrote it. Hey, either way, there are markers in each city commemorating the site where each believe the little Ditty was written. One of the more interesting stories surrounds the twelve days of Christmas. When you listen to it, it may strike you as light and nonsensical. Nothing could be further from the truth. In 1558 to 1829, Catholics in England were forbidden to practice their religion. It was the law. If you were caught, it meant automatic imprisonment, perhaps hanging, or you could end up a head shorter. The song was written as a memory aid for children to learn their catechism. Each strange gift in the song held a serious meaning. First, the true love refers to God, not an earthly suitor. The me represents every baptized person. The partridge in the pear tree was Jesus Christ. Christ was portrayed as a mother partridge feigning injury to protect her nesting young. And here's what the other gifts mean. Two turtle doves, the Old and New Testaments, three French hens, faith, hope, and charity, four calling birds, the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, five golden rings, the first five books of the Old Testament, six geese of laying, the six days of creation, seven swans of swimming, the seven sacraments, the eight maids of milking, the eight beatitudes, nine ladies dancing, the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit, ten lords of leaping, the ten commandments, eleven pipers piping, the eleven faithful apostles, and the twelve drummers drumming, the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostles' Creed. Now Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is an outright invention of twentieth century commercialism. He first blew onto the scene in 1939 as a promotional gimmick for Montgomery Wards. They asked one of their young copywriters, Robert May, to come up with a story for their annual Christmas coloring book. The original story was nothing more than an adaptation of the Tale of the Ugly Ducking. Now the first name considered actually was Rolo, but that was considered to be too cheery for this fit. Then it was Reginald. But that sounded too British, so he ended up and settled on Rudolph. He tried the story out on his four-year-old daughter. She loved it. May's boss, however, was a tougher sell. He was worried about that red nose. He was concerned that people would think that they were endorsing drinking and drunkenness. So May and a staff cartoonist rushed to the Lincoln Park Zoo and drew pictures of deer and colored the noses red. The illustrations were approved, and Rudolph the red nosed reindeer was born. The retailer gave away 2.4 million copies that year, six million by 1946. After World War II, Rudolph was hugely popular. There were many demands for licensing the character. Because May created it while working for the company, they held the copyright. May found himself hopelessly in debt after the death of his wife from a lengthy illness. He persuaded Sewell Avery, the company president, to turn the rights over to him. He was financially set for the rest of his life. The story was turned into a nine-minute cartoon in 1948. But Ruta, oh, he hadn't peaked yet. May's brother-in-law was the famous songwriter Johnny Marks. It was Marks who composed the words and music that we sing today. It almost didn't get recorded. Many recording companies didn't want to they just didn't want to tamper with the Santa Claus legend, so they wouldn't touch it. They wouldn't go near it. Finally, cowboy singer Gene Autry stepped in and recorded it in 1949. It sold two million copies that year alone. It was one of the best-selling songs of all time, second only to White Christmas. In 1964, Burl Ives narrated the TV classic that we see each year. And then there's the granddaddy of them all, White Christmas. Irving Berlin wrote the song for a 1942 movie called Holiday Inn, starring Ben Crosby Fred Astaire. The movie was about an inn that was only open on the holidays. Berlin was commissioned to create all the songs for each holiday. He later said that writing the Christmas song was the toughest one of them all. Berlin performed the song for Ben Crosby in 1941, and the Krooner assured Berlin that it would be a hit. That proved to be a gross understatement. Crosby first performed it for the public on his NBC radio show on Christmas Night, 1941. It went on to become the biggest-selling single for 50 years until Elton John's tribute to Lady Diana, Candle in the Wind. White Christmas was the basis of a 1954 movie of the same name starring Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, Vera Ellen, and Danny Kay. Little side story: Kay wasn't the first choice for the role. Fred Astaire declined after reading the script. Donald O'Connor turned it down due to a back ailment, and then it fell to Kay, who, as it turns out, was unnatural for the role. And believe it or not, the song also played a part at the end of the Vietnam War. They put in an evacuation plan, well, they put it into motion to get the remaining Americans and loyal Vietnamese to safety. The cue to begin the evacuation was a radio announcement saying that it was 105 degrees in Saigon and rising, followed by White Christmas. When the song began, the Exodus was on. You know, as I look back on all these stories, the songwriters, the struggle, the faith, the accidents, the folklore, and a whole lot of plain human hope, I'm reminded that these carols aren't just holiday background music. They're little time capsules. They carry the fingerprints of generations who sang them long before we ever showed up, and I pray they'll be here long after we're gone. So the next time one of these classics comes floating across your speakers, whether it's Gene Artery, Burl Ives, Bing Crosby, or the kids down the street singing a little off key, I hope you hear more than the melody. I hope you hear the stories, the sacrifices, the joy, and the heart behind them. So from our house to yours, I wish you a Christmas season filled with peace, wonder, and the kind of simple blessings that you don't have to unwrap. Thank you for spending your time with me today. I appreciate every single minute that you give this podcast. I'm Tweed Scott, and I'll see you next time on the Texan Edge. Until then, Merry Christmas, y'all.