As they entered the skies over Berlin, he could see the closeness of black crosses on grayish silver planes with their trademark yellow noses, feeling the rising deafening shrills of war at 25,000 feet, it was the heart-skipping-spinal-shivering-one-last-prayer-for-Jesus moment before the swarm of hornets in what had become an around-the-clock, retaliatory affair of all-out retribution, a never-ending buzz, buzz, buzz, pop, pop, pop, bombs away, bombs away, bombs away.

 

What a time that was.

 

It had been just over a year since Oscar-winning-boy-next-door actor, Jimmy Stewart, flew his last mission as a bomber pilot over Nazi Germany. That is, before it was time to take up his role as George Bailey in Hollywood's 1946 production of "It's a Wonderful Life." 

 

For Jimmy Stewart, the horrors of war, a precipitous return to film, and the pre-cultural awakening that had yet to be realized as the "American Dream," served as the perfect cataclysm of events that has made "It's a Wonderful Life" endure as both a wonder and nightmare of wicked proportion.

 

Last December, I decided to make the ultimate Christmas Mecca to Seneca Falls, the little town in upstate New York in which "It's a Wonderful Life" was inspired.

 

The annual festival was underway, celebrating the 77th anniversary. “Welcome to Bedford Falls!” was taped over the town namesake. Everything from a Christmas parade on Main Street with homemade floats, to comforting notes from charming Old Town carolers, to the idyllic holiday innocence of happy-hot-chocolate-drinking-children.

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It was heartwarming.

 

Yet in my self-appointed guest role as Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge, (close your eyes if you're not ready for this) I couldn't help but admit that the yuletide cheer surrounding this very American Christmas story, only scratched the surface of what lies a more complete telling of "It's a Wonderful Life" and why it just never seems to die.

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We won't find those answers in Hollywood (sorry to disappoint). But rather this 6,985 person hamlet that is Seneca Falls. Because one, that's where director, Frank Capra, got his imagination tickled for "Bedford Falls." And two, my tires didn't drive all that way for us not to use the material I captured.

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(just so you know where I stand.)

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I've spent time in and around "Bedford Falls," otherwise known as Central New York. You can say "there's history here," but that'd be modest. It's home to Harriet Tubman. She lived out her life in Auburn, NY after escaping through the Underground Railroad. Her house still stands.

 

It also happens to be where 260 women met for the first time in what was our nation's first Women's Suffrage Movement. It took place in Seneca Falls in 1848. Today, marked by the Women’s Rights Historical Park right in town.

 

The park can be seen from "Bridge Street Bridge." Maybe you've heard? If not, I know you'd recognize it. It's the one George Bailey tries to take his life on after Uncle Billy loses the $8,000 and things start to go dark in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” 

 

It's the stark contrast which gives the town its irony. It's a place where dreams feel comfortable enough to go, and see what is there for them. Yet, it remains a portrait of highs and lows. Where big Victorian homes built by socialites of a century ago stand tall on Main Street, surrounded by shadows staring up at them filled with dreams not met, or ever realized—a town living off a rich legacy, struggling to make ends meet. 

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And then there's that bridge. 

 

I walked that Bridge Street Bridge. I made my way step-by-step, play-actingly in a George Bailey sort of way, overly-conscious of what this scene means for the millions who tune in every Christmas, feeling underly-self-conscious of the millions of Great Depression era Americans like my grandparents who felt the weight of the world on their shoulders in ways I can't relate until I reached the middle, stopping, turning right, ignoring the rolling-eyes of that house sparrow sitting un-movingly on the rusty girder because he's seen this act of sentimentality all before, treading gingerly toward the ledge until I could rest my hands on that green bridge, seeing for myself the icily cold water, wondering wonderingly why someone would want to take their life at such a precipitous spot?

 

But I did know. Just as so many know about pain. And pain's persistence to be brave, and not reveal itself at the surface if it can help itself. Just as Frank Capra knew. George Bailey. And before they even knew, a girl by the name of "Ruth Dunham."

 

She was 17. Only she changed her mind when she hit the water. Yelling, slapping, struggling, hoping someone would come to help her. That someone was "Antonio Varacalli," who managed to get Dunham to the canal bank before he went under. He was also 17.

 

It's believed this was the story that inspired Frank Capra's telling for the scene in "It's a Wonderful Life."