BEEBE — Rick Chudomelka is not unlike the character George Bailey in the Christmas film, It’s a Wonderful Life.
He lives an ordinary life in an ordinary small town that sprang up along oncebusy railroad tracks, used less these days.
For 47 years, he and his family have been firmly planted at a nice, modest, brick ranch-style home at 1110 W. Center St.
He hasn’t spent his life making headlines, fame or fortune. Instead, his contributions have been as husband, father, grandfather, friend, college instructor and mentor — the ordinary things.
But Chudomelka is not your ordinary guy.
Since that first year in his new home in 1965, he’s been brightening his little corner of the world at West Center and North Orange streets for nearly half a century now and hasn’t missed a year yet.
“I’ve put many a display up in ice and rain,” says Chudomelka.
When he and his wife Mary Jane bought the home, he was 31 and his five daughters were 7 and younger. His first Christmas decoration — Santa on the roof, leaning over to grab a bag lifted by two reindeer on the ground — was made of wood in his workshop.
These days, there are no decorations on the roof but Chudomelka’s groundwork is immense — a choir of angels, an oversized nativity scene, a reindeer-pulled sleigh, six Nutcracker soldiers made of repurposed materials (plastic wastebaskets, jack-o’-lanterns and PVC pipe) and luminaries. Some figures are cut from wood; others are foam core.
Through the years, his decor has grown; call it a busman’s holiday. Now retired, he formerly led the theater and music departments at Arkansas State University-Beebe.
“This was just a carry-over from what I was already doing,” says Chudomelka, who turns on his lights from Thanksgiving weekend to New Year’s Day. In the nearly half century of his display, only once was anything stolen — a lone Nutcracker.
“I’m sure whoever took it was disappointed when they saw what it was really made of,” he says, chuckling. “What you see from the front is not what’s really behind it; that’s how theater works.”
In order to hang his icicle lights from the roof’s edge, Chudomelka climbs atop his house. Now 78, he knows he’s in the winter of his wonderland.
“Like everything else, there is a time when this will have to end and I realize that time is growing near. I can probably handle it one more year after this one.
“The display might be moved elsewhere,” he adds, “but I doubt it.”
He’s OK with that. His goal was never to create a legacy of lights.
Instead, it has always been about living in the present; bringing a moment of joy to passers-by who delight in finding the extraordinary in something so very ordinary.
“When the traffic goes by and they slow down a little, you can tell they are enjoying it,” Chudomelka says. “That what’s it’s all about — sharing a little of the holiday with others.”
Arkansas, Pages 17 on 12/23/2012