ROANOKE TIMES  
                      Copyright (c) 1995, Roanoke Times

DATE: Thursday, December 14, 1995            TAG: 9512150009
SECTION: NEIGHBORS                PAGE: E-2  EDITION: METRO  
SOURCE: CHARLES STEBBINS STAFF WRITER
MEMO: NOTE: Also ran in December 17, 1995 Current. 


ROANOKE'S NEAR MISFIREIT SEEMED THE CHRISTMAS CANDLE OF 1958 WAS BESET WITH PROBLEMS FROM THE START; SOMEHOW COMMUNITY LEADERS PULLED IT OFF

HIS is a story of fact about a Christmas candle. Some Roanoke longtimers won't admit to remembering its making. We could find only one of the people directly involved. And he lives out of town.

But the story - a part of Roanoke's Christmas history overlooked for 37 years - involved many Roanoke Valley churches and individuals and culminated on the lawn of the Roanoke City Municipal Building. For a few hours, it was something of a community joke.

It was 1958, and the Roanoke Ministers' Conference, WDBJ-7 TV, and Raleigh Court Methodist Church - it was not United Methodist then - wanted to symbolize the unity of the Christian world as reflected in the Christmas celebration.

The organizers decided to build a candle, similar to one built at Raleigh Court.

Candle remnants, to be melted and remolded into a big community candle, were collected from individuals and churches. The candle would burn on the municipal building lawn throughout the Christmas season.

The late Charles Ballou, a member of the church and program director of WDBJ Television, suggested that the candle idea be broadened into a citywide project. The Ministers' Conference agreed to help.

A week before Christmas, thousands of candle remnants - 40 bushels - were assembled on the lawn of the Roanoke Municipal building.

Chuck Verna, a property man at WDBJ, contrived a huge double boiler, and the melting process began on the afternoon of Dec.18.

Verna, who had never made candles before, worked into the night, melting and pouring molten tallow into a 22-inches by 10-foot cylindrical metal mold.

The tallow, however, did not harden overnight, and Verna announced that the project was being hampered by "uncooperative wax."

During the day, many people in downtown visited candle center to inspect the project and kibitz with Verna. Most of their advice was impractical. With the unseaonably warm weather - temperatures in the upper 50s - Verna fretted over the still-liquid tallow.

Skeptical onlookers said the scene, with the 10-foot tall cylinder, resembled a spaceship-launching pad. But some of them said this rocket would "never get off the ground."

The hours passed, and the tallow still would not harden. Verna got more and more nervous as time approached for the Dec. 23 lighting ceremony.

But about mid-day Dec. 20, an oil company executive whose name, unfortunately, has been lost in history, stopped by, offering critical advice: Harden the wax in smaller quantities on pie pans and then stack them to create a tall candle.

Verna tried it, and declared the idea "a life saver. "We probably wouldn't have [the candle] otherwise," he was quoted as saying. Verna spent the rest of the weekend molding and stacking the individual sections.

By Dec. 22, all the pieces were stacked 10-feet high with an estimated weight of 2,000 pounds. The last step was a final coating of white wax over the outside so the individual sections would not show.

The next day, Mayor Vincent S. Wheeler, climbing up on an eight-foot step ladder, used a gaily decorated bottled gas torch to ignite the rope wick of the candle.

But it was a windy night - nearly 20 mph with gusts up to 30 mph. Near midnight, a nervous fire marshal discovered that the brisk wind was whipping droplets of flaming wax across the municipal building lawn. He ordered the candle extinguished until the wind subsided.

The candle was relighted early Dec. 23 and burned through Christmas Day. It went out Dec. 26 after the wick drowned in a crater of wax.

But that was not the end of the story.

Emergency surgery was required to slice away excess wax and the candle was relighted.

News articles don't say when the candle was permanently extinquished, but organizers, despite the problems, deemed the project successful. But not enough of a success to make it an annual event as had been proposed.

Staff photographer Keith Graham braved the attic of The Roanoke Times building to find these old photos.


LENGTH: Medium:   87 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  File/1958. 1. While a youthful onlooker offers  

unsolicited skepticism, Roanoke Mayor Vinvent Wheeler with a

decorated blow torch in his hand, braves high winds to light the big

one (ran on E-1). 2. Candle remnants (top), collected from

individuals and churches, were donated toward making one big

community candle. 3. Chuck Verna (above), who worked for WDBJ,

stirred some Christmas spirit in a giant double boilers.

by CNB