Last year for my “Scrooge” column, I wrote about the death of three very important American icons: Halloween, Thanksgiving and the Christmas spirit.

This year, there is a not so famous, not so iconic American to add to the list.

Black Friday morning, Jdimytai Damour, a 34 year-old New York Wal-Mart worker, was killed because he couldn’t escape the deal-seeking crowd.

A crowd of more than 2,000 people trampled the man, a temporary maintenance employee, to death when he tried to open the store’s doors at 5 a.m.

The crowd broke the doors and crushed the man, along with a dozen others, to the ground, ignoring police when they tried to save him.

What a great start to the Christmas season. 

Growing up, I learned that “the season” was about good things.

Peace on Earth and good will to all defined it.

I used to measure the time until Christmas by the number of houses with Christmas lights up between mine and my grandparents’ house, and I remember my uncle’s birthday (Dec. 12) solely because it was the day I was allowed to put up our tree.

Christmas was about gathering with family to celebrate being with family, and giving because making other people happy is a good feeling, even if it is as simple as a card.

I found the best gifts for others were ones I wasn’t even looking for, which is why I refused to participate in Black Friday shopping sprees.

I avoided retail completely every day after Thanksgiving until I was at least 16.

To most kids, the “there is no Santa Clause” speech was devastating.

What was most distressing to me, however, was that, to others, the embodiment of Christmas was standing in line on a cold Friday morning with the taste of Turkey still in their mouths just to push and shove their way to the best deal, the exact opposite of what I love about the holiday.

I’ve heard many people say they spend days, sometimes even weeks, planning out their Black Friday shopping, almost as an athlete prepares for his or her next competition.

So, even though I apparently have an overly optimistic view of how Christmas is supposed to work, as I stood by my register around 3:30 a.m. at my local Kohl’s department store awaiting the crowd that had gathered outside, I couldn’t help but hope that one would end up with a painful and pride ruining, yet ultimately harmless black eye.

It was for the best that the most action I saw was mild pushing and shoving and one old lady who tried to run the man in front of her over with a cart because he was nice enough to let someone back in line.

This was quite enough to satisfy the fact that I was up and out of bed at my normal bedtime.

No Christmas gift is so important, and no sale price is so great, that anyone should die in the process of purchasing.

Because of its change in meaning, Christmas has lost its luster. It shouldn’t be comparable to a sporting event, and giving shouldn’t resemble a contest to see whom does it best.

People shouldn’t risk bodily harm in the name of Christmas shopping, and they shouldn’t risk murder charges so that their friends and family feel loved via gifts.

While the 7.1 percent spending increase from 2007 during the Black Friday weekend suggests people are spending more than expected in bad economic conditions, the fact that Christmas shopping caused a man’s death is astonishing.

‘Tis the season.