How we’re all a little like George Bailey in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’
Every Christmas, I visit my old buddy, George Bailey, in Bedford Falls.
I give myself a standing invitation to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” — a celebration of the human spirit and a reminder of life’s blessings.
Today marks the 70th anniversary of the iconic holiday classic. The movie premiered on Christmas Day in 1946. Surprisingly, the film’s arrival didn’t harken many heralded angels. Theater patrons gave it a lukewarm reception at the box office. Critics assailed it as being as sappy as a freshly cut Christmas tree.
Although it was nominated for six Academy Awards — including best picture, best director (Frank Capra) and best actor (Jimmy Stewart) — it managed to win only a minor Oscar for “technical achievement.’’
It wasn’t until the early 1970s that it was finally lauded for being as “wonderful” as the title suggested. After the copyright wasn’t properly renewed due to a clerical error, a new generation of viewers was introduced to Clarence the good-hearted angel and Zuzu’s petals on television every December.
That was about the time it became a Christmas tradition for my friend, Bob Welch, and his wife, Sally.
I met Bob at a National Society of Newspaper Columnists conference in New Orleans in 2004. He wrote for The Register-Guard in Eugene, Oregon. We were reunited at the NSNC convention two years later in Grapevine, Texas, and have stayed in touch. He has been described as the “most eclectic writer in America.”
In many ways, we are kindred spirits, even across the more than 2,000 miles that separate us geographically. We began writing our newspaper columns at the same time in the late 1990s. We are both published authors, involved in various writing projects and speaking engagements.
He is an adjunct professor of journalism at the University of Oregon in Eugene. I teach journalism at Stratford Academy in Macon. We also have been blessed with the joys of fatherhood. Bob has two sons, and I have raised three. (We are now grandparents, which is an even sweeter gig.)
A few years ago, a bank in Bob’s hometown began requiring new employees to watch a series of scenes from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The bank’s president explained the film’s message was one they wanted their employees to bring to work every day. It was the “idea that our actions make a difference in the community around us.”
Bob soon began paying careful attention to the “richness” of the film’s moral and spiritual wisdom. By the time he made a list — and checked it twice — he had written down more than 100 “lessons.”
The lesson in the end is that your contentment and satisfaction might be right in your backyard. You don’t always notice those things if you’re always pining to go someplace else.
Bob Welch
authorHe paired some and pared others to come up with weekly devotionals. A book was born in 2013. He called it “52 Little Lessons from It’s a Wonderful Life.” He followed up with a couple of companions — “52 Little Lessons from Les Miserables” in 2014 and “52 Little Lessons from A Christmas Carol” last year.
After the book was published, Bob was invited to attend the annual “It’s a Wonderful Life Festival” in Seneca Falls, N.Y., the city believed to have been the model for director Capra’s mythical “Bedford Falls.” The bridge in the movie was patterned after the one in upstate New York. The “Granville House” of George and Mary Hatch Bailey had a remarkable resemblance to many of the Victorian homes in Seneca Falls.
“It was a magical weekend,” said Bob. “It snowed about 8 inches in a couple of days. Everybody was walking down the street dressed as characters from ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.’ There were chestnuts roasting on open fires. And the movie was playing all day long in the lobby at the Hotel Clarence.”
Bob has been amazed at the film’s cult following and universal appeal. Although the characters endured the hardships of the Great Depression and World War II, the story transports us to a more idyllic time.
“Everyone longs for a Bedford Falls in their life,” said Bob. “If you have tough times, you would hope people in the community would rally around you in the same way. It was very affirming and enlightening to see how deeply people feel about the movie. And not in a paper-thin sort of way but in a way that resonates with the soul.”
Bob believes we all can identify and commiserate with George Bailey. We often dwell on roads not taken. We second-guess our lots in life. We complain about drafty old houses, stale relationships and dead-end jobs.
George is a restless dreamer, frustrated by the circumstances that prevent him “shaking the dust from this crummy little town from his feet” and following his heart’s desire. He is trapped, destined to remain behind to “fight the battle of Bedford Falls.”
“It was kind of like the world’s view of success. George Bailey thought you had to go out and get it,” said Bob. “The lesson in the end is that your contentment and satisfaction might be right in your backyard. You don’t always notice those things if you’re always pining to go someplace else.”
The bridge scene near the end of the movie, when the discontented George is contemplating suicide, is not about the missing $8,000 from the Bailey Building and Loan.
George is a loving father, loyal husband and devotes his life unselfishly in service to others. Clarence, his guardian angel, is his wake-up messenger. You matter to the world, Clarence affirms to him on that snowy Christmas Eve. “Each man’s life touches so many other lives.”
“It took humility on George’s part, but it totally changed his life because he was willing to listen to somebody else,” Bob said. “We live in a time where people loathe to do that. We think we have all the answers, and the idea of somebody gently shaking us and changing our perspective is very rare.
“To me, the whole story is about perspective. Think about George when he returns to that snowy bridge that night after looking at life without George Bailey. No circumstances have changed whatsoever, yet he is suddenly happy. He goes home, hugs his family and shakes hands with the reporters. He has found joy again, and why is that? It’s because his perspective changed, not his circumstances. He realized he was in the midst of a wonderful life. His eyes were always on what other people were doing. Deep inside, that’s what he wanted. But the angel woke him up and said it’s not what you want but what you need that will make you content.”
Ed Grisamore teaches journalism, creative writing and storytelling at Stratford Academy in Macon. His column appears on Sundays in The Telegraph.
This story was originally published December 23, 2016 at 3:39 PM with the headline "How we’re all a little like George Bailey in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’."