Hometown Hero: The spirit of Christmas is captured each year in New London, where the lonely lights shine bright 

The Christmas tree on top of the hill in New London that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987. Mount Kearsarge can be seen in the backround.

The Christmas tree on top of the hill in New London that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987. Mount Kearsarge can be seen in the backround. GEOFF FORESTER—Monitor staff

The Christmas tree on top of the New London hill that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987, with Mount Kearsarge in the distance.

The Christmas tree on top of the New London hill that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987, with Mount Kearsarge in the distance. GEOFF FORESTER / Monitor staff

The Christmas tree on top of the hill in New London that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987. Mount Kearsarge can be seen in the backround.

The Christmas tree on top of the hill in New London that David Cleveland has been lighting since 1987. Mount Kearsarge can be seen in the backround. GEOFF FORESTER—Monitor staff

David Cleveland who has been lighting a Christmas tree on a hill in New London since 1987.

David Cleveland who has been lighting a Christmas tree on a hill in New London since 1987. COURTESY—David Cleveland

By RAY DUCKLER

Monitor staff

Published: 01-07-2024 8:00 PM

Modified: 01-08-2024 2:51 PM


Inside, David Cleveland’s father knew his son had created a great idea, an idea he liked, a warm and fuzzy tradition that just passed its 36th anniversary this past Christmas.

But Jim Cleveland – the former Republican U.S. Congressman, poster boy for the Bush presidential dynasty, torch-carrier for the stoic, thrifty, tough, no-nonsense New Englander – had to support his own traditions, for the sake of appearances, if nothing else.

He reminded his son about the cost of keeping alive a New London tradition called, “David’s Tree” or “The Little Tree in the Big Field.”

It’s essentially a Christmas tree, white lights blazing, standing in the middle of a long, flat, 20-acre stretch of land, a welcome mat for residents and visitors alike at Christmas time.

Once, it was a fresh Christmas tree presented each year in a scene that would have made any postcard proud. Then, the artificial tree came along. A cost saver, of course.

David has been anchoring a 6-foot Christmas tree – real and artificial – in the middle of his family’s land since 1987. He swears he’s never missed a holiday season.

That’s why his sister, Cotton Cleveland, said that David is worthy of a Hometown Hero award.

The tree’s effect is eerie, calming, beautiful, all rolled into one. The lights create an angel-like haze, and a dark outline of Mount Kearsarge stands high in the background.

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David says, “It sits in the middle of nowhere. The image is sort of a ship in the night. The little tree that could. I wanted a metaphor or story and the only one I could think of was about my father because we were spending his money on such a little tree.”

Jim Cleveland had a reputation for being fair-minded, a moderate conservative.

Throughout the 1960s, he supported the Civil Rights Act, Medicare, voting rights and housing and urban development.

The United States Post Office and Court House in Concord were renamed the James C. Cleveland Federal Building in 1980. The James C. Cleveland Bridge in Berlin was built in his honor in 1982.

The family’s color and history don’t stop there. David grew up in New London and graduated from Kearsarge Regional High School in 1973.

He won a national collegiate championship in the giant slalom while skiing at Dartmouth College in 1976. He made one of the lower-level national teams and skied professionally in Colorado.

He moved to the arts and performed in “Phantom of the Opera” on Broadway. He sang and acted in California productions. He played Tony in “West Side Story.” He opened studios and promoted theater.

He came back to New London and bought a house in 2002, looking to move from the sadness and horror of Ground Zero, which had only recently stopped smoldering.

Looking for more control, David got his real estate license and flipped houses. His Charlie Brown-like Christmas tree story began in 1987, during a trip home to see his family in New London during Christmas.

“I said to dad, ‘wouldn’t it be nice to have a tree in the field,’ ” David said.

Then, in his best grouchy, gravely, fiscally conservative voice, David listed his father’s early concerns. What about the price of the tree? The price of the lights? The price of an extension cord, and the logistics of dragging a cord a few hundred feet to power the lights? And what about the cost of electricity?

“He was a conservative New Englander,” David said, “so he could be thrifty.”

David has been the tree man ever since. The land is an easement with Ausbon Sargent Land Preservation Trust and is owned by his family.

“It’s on a beautiful piece of land and we can enjoy it forever,” David said.

It’s a hit, always in its place, always saying different things to different people.

“My father would call,” David said, “and say that people are asking him about the damn tree and when was I putting it up.”

The town has since become involved.

“Most of it is people calling up and saying they don’t like the placement,” David said. “They say that maybe it could be a little more to the left.”

Jim died in 1995. His wife, Hilary Paterson Cleveland, is 96 and lives alone at David’s childhood home.

“A lot of this brings her incredible joy, and it brings me joy, too,” David said. “It just snowballed into something we have done.”

The tree goes up around Thanksgiving and comes down in April, after David and his husband, Robert Jensen, return from Key West. The lights are controlled by a timer. It’s lights out at 11 p.m. No reason to waste money.

David always suspected that his annual tree celebration actually made his father happy. Jim just couldn’t be too obvious.

“We got a call from a nosy neighbor,” David said. “She told (Jim) how important that tree had become. He said, ‘Thank you; we feel it’s a great gift to the community.’ Then he’d call me and say, ‘Dammit, when are you coming home?’ It was hilarious.”