December 30, 1927
Christmas is over. Get rid of the tree. Especially if your tree is absurdly large, and its explosion into flame is going to ignite humans.
W. A. Thomas, 2317 Scarff Street, was sitting on a balcony of the Clark Hotel above just such a repulsively titanic symbol of holiday cheer when the spangled, glittering, belighted thing short-circuited. A pop, a flash, a sudden roar, and the tapering fir became a sheath of flame. As did Thomas. He went to Georgia Street Receiving with second and third-degree burns of the face, neck, chest, arms and hands. A Mrs. Ethel Williams of Phoenix took some lesser burns to the face, neck, arms and hands as well.
It would be some years before the advent of the aluminum, flameless variety. (Should you own the Decemberween version of this style, the time is still now to box & basement your shiny friend.) Thank you for your kind attention.