I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
Bing Crosby first sang that Irving Berlin classic on his radio program on Christmas Day in 1941. It’s been a holiday favorite ever since, with more than 50 million copies of Der Bingle’s version sold, and 50 million more by other artists rerecording the song.
If you’ve tuned into a nonstop holiday music station on your car radio yet, you’ll know that “White Christmas” is popular here in Texas, too, even though we rarely have one and are not likely to see treetops glistening or hear sleigh bells in the snow in these parts.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t pretend and simulate the white Christmases that folks up north enjoy (and so many Christmas cards portray as the norm). That’s what spray snow is for. Spray it on your Christmas tree, spray it on your window panes, spray it all over the place, and – presto! – you’ve got a white Christmas.
That’s what Raymond Felix did back in the early 1950s. Over the course of five years, Felix used “multiple boxes” of Snow Drift to decorate the family tree each Christmas. One day each year for five years (five days total), he threw and sprinkled Snow Drift on his tree. Then, suddenly, 59 years later, he was diagnosed with mesothelioma and died.
Coincidence? His wife doesn’t think so. She’s suing the makers of Snow Drift and trying to hold them responsible for her octogenarian husband’s death five years ago: six decades after his use of the product.
Michele Felix filed suit last month in the Houston Division of the Southern District of Texas against Novelis Corporation as a successor-in-interest to Alcan Aluminum Corporation, Alcan Fabrication Corporation, Alcan Cable, and Metal Goods Corporation, alleging negligence, strict product liability, and wrongful death.
In this “most wonderful time of the year,” we can’t help but think that the widow Felix is dreaming of a “green” Christmas.