So much needling

At long last, Mike Raia, a spokesman for Gov. Gina Raimondo, was ready to put to rest the years of controversy over Rhode Island’s official State House Christmas tree.

Twitter was not so ready.

When Raia posted a photograph last week of an “Official Rhode Island State House Christmas Tree Watering Can,” a tongue-in-cheek nod to the untimely, dehydrated deaths of past rotunda trees, a Twitter user reacted angrily. He hoped that private donors had funded the purchase of the watering can. And why did we need an “official” watering can anyway?

“Oh good grief,” Raia responded, unconsciously echoing Charlie Brown, another character who dealt with a peanut gallery and had some Christmas-tree troubles of his own. “I bought the can myself.”

So it goes in Rhode Island, with an annual tradition like no other. The State House Christmas tree in recent years has been more like a Festivus-style lightning rod. Rhode Island’s got a lot of problems with you people. And now you're gonna hear about it.

Asked if he could confirm reports that his South Kingstown operation, Bedrock Tree Farm, had donated the tree that the state would use in 2018, Tom Geary seemed to nod to the past tree troubles.

“Only if it has its needles on it,” he joked. “Otherwise, I deny.”

For the record: Yes, it was his tree. Yes, he did take a chainsaw to it as state workers pushed it over; yes, he grew that 18-foot Douglas fir, a tree with a distinctively strong piney odor and a renowned ability to retain its needles. (Ability to retain needles will come in handy; the state has had trouble with that before.)

The tree from South Kingstown will be the centerpiece of a tree-lighting ceremony Thursday. The ceremony begins at 5 p.m. and is open to the public. Raimondo and First Gentleman Andy Moffit will light the tree with their kids at 6:15 p.m.

Then they’ll read "'Twas The Night Before Christmas," and all through the State House, Christmas cheer will be stirring: Santa and Mrs. Claus will be there. Local kids will sing. (Protesters won’t drown them out, as they have in past years. But more about that later.) Attendees are asked to bring an unwrapped toy to fill a Rhode Island State Police cruiser. The toys will be given to kids in need.

But looming over the holiday cheer is the ghost of Christmas debacles past. It began an unlucky 13 years ago, when the state Christmas tree shed all its needles after it was covered with a chemical fire retardant. The tree had to be removed before Christmas. It was the last time the state would use a fire retardant, but it was far from the last fiasco.

Perhaps even worse was what happened the next year, with news that Gov. Donald Carcieri’s office would get an artificial tree to avoid the same sad spectacle.

The news turned out to be as fake as the supposed tree itself, however, and the governor’s office backtracked, saying that despite what it had said previously, the centerpiece tree in the rotunda was in fact a real 18-foot Fraser fir.

In 2007, eagle-eyed Journal reporters noticed state workers quietly swapping out a sickly-looking tree out of an “abundance of caution” a few weeks before Christmas. The workers then fed the replacement into a wood chipper on Dec. 26.

But those incidents would pale in comparison with the national furor that blew up like a frozen turkey dropped into a deep fryer when then-Gov. Lincoln Chafee in 2011 called the state's crown conifer a “holiday” tree instead of a Christmas tree.

Never mind that other governors had also used various secular titles for the tree. It was another salvo in the “War on Christmas,” a gift — a holiday gift, so to speak — for outlets like Fox News and late-night comedians from Jon Stewart to cast members of "Saturday Night Live."

“Lincoln Chafee Stands By PC ‘Holiday Tree,’” said a representative headline in the Boston Herald.

At a tree-lighting ceremony in 2011, an embattled Chafee — “Governor Grinch,” one critic called him — inconspicuously pressed a button to turn the tree lights on, not even interrupting music by a children’s chorus.

As he went back to his office, a group of protesters started belting out “O, Christmas Tree,” over the voices of the little children who were singing. Outside, protesters lit a Christmas tree of their own. Catholic Bishop Thomas J. Tobin was among the chorus of critics.

The next year, Chafee’s office at first told reporters there would be no ceremony. Then, with 30 minutes of advance notice — to avoid fanfare and more protesters — Chafee flipped the switch even more inconspicuously and left the State House.

By 2013, Chafee was calling the tree a Christmas tree again (Politico: “Chafee decks Christmas title on tree.”) In 2018, he did not respond to a request to relitigate the dispute.

And yet the controversy did not die there. Instead, it was the tree that keeled over again.

In 2016, the tree was deemed too small and was swapped out for another.

And last year, less than a fortnight before Christmas, the tree was already on its way out.

 In a sweltering State House, it was dropping needles, its lower branches as bare as Charlie Brown's. The Associated Press took notice and, after Raimondo’s office insisted that the tree did not need to be replaced — dropping needles was just what Christmas trees did — the state eventually buckled. The tree was swapped out for a new one.

The media took notice. Again.

“This is the saddest state capital Christmas tree,” the New York Post headline blared.

“We make national news, and it’s never for anything good,” said Doreen Costa, a Republican lawmaker during the earlier Chafee “holiday” tree affair who had held her own Christmas tree ceremony in protest.

Costa, now a member of the North Kingstown Town Council, plans to be in Providence on Thursday with her 2-year-old grandson to see this year’s State House Christmas tree, and she’s hopeful that the state government will have learned a lesson and the tree will be healthy and sturdy.

As for Costa’s own home, "it looks like it threw up Christmas." (In a good way.)

Raia, the governor’s spokesman and watering-can buyer, is taking it all in stride. Raia could not say if they were doing anything new to care for this year's tree, but he assured the public that the tree would last — that it was well-fed and tethered to the floor.

“The basin that the tree is in is definitely full,” said Raia, who confirmed he spent $17.98 on the watering can. (Buying it was another staffer's idea.)

It’s not clear how the Official Can will play a role in Thursday’s festivities. But, as in past years he’s worked there, Raia will be at the State House with his children, enjoying the very Rhode Island tradition. The holidays are a time for celebration and mirth and merriment — and sometimes that means laughing at yourself.

“That’s why it is so important that there is a tree and a tree-lighting ceremony,” Raia said, “regardless of what has happened in past years.”