Monday, November 25, 2019

Christmas Memories, Part 1

After a long hiatus, I've decided to try blogging again. I'm not sure how many people are doing this any more other than the ones who monetize it and make it a full-time job, but it's a good way for me to do some writing.

As we're already making plans for Advent and Christmas celebrations, I'm beginning with a few Christmas memories, which may at least interest my family (and maybe spur a few comments from them!)

The first Christmas memories I have are not my own; they are memories my mother shared with me. During her growing-up years, her family lived first on the Fisher Road and later on the Millay Road in Bowdoinham. Except for her father's sister, Aunt Maude, and her husband Charles James, most of their relatives lived far away. Grammie's sister Octavia (Aunt Ottie) and her husband and children lived in Portland, no great distance today, but in the 20s, 30s and during World War II, not a trip lightly undertaken. So gifts would arrive from Grammie's parents in Calais and perhaps other relatives as well. Mama said that these gifts would have to be kept in their postal wrappings under the tree until Christmas morning -- prolonging the anticipation as layers of wrapping were taken off. There was also a visit from Santa Claus, and at least once, Grampie went out and threw snowballs onto the roof to make the children think that Santa's reindeer had landed!

I don't remember my father ever recalling his childhood Christmases. He always went a bit overboard at Christmas, but I don't know whether that was a holdover from his own childhood or a reaction to a perceived scarcity.

Here's a photo from one of my early Christmases. I was 3 1/2 and my brother Stephen was creeping up on 10 months at Fort Hancock in Sandy Hook, NJ in 1951. I don't remember what was in those big boxes, but I'm sure it was a merry Christmas.

If later experience is any guide, we did not hang fancy Christmassy stockings, rather, my father's olive drab Army socks -- extra long calves to go under combat boots. They certainly held a lot, including the traditional orange or tangerine in the toe.
The following Christmas was quite different. Our family had grown from 2 children to 4 with the birth of my twin brother and sister, Peter and Pamela, a couple of months before. Mama, I, Stephen, Peter and Pamela were living in the little house my parents built before Daddy was called up for the Korean War, just a bit up the road from Grammie and Grampie's house and farm. Uncles Dick and Carl and aunt Kate were still at home, which was a big help to my mother as my father was in either Japan or Korea at that time. (He was first sent to Japan and we were expecting to follow him, but then his unit went to Korea -- I'm not sure of the timing.) Our house was pretty basic at that time -- I am pretty sure we may not have had running water, so my mother brought water from our neighbor's well across the road. I remember taking baths in a tin washtub -- and of course we had chamber pots and an outhouse in the shed. Here's a photo of our house in 1952, shortly before my father was deployed -- they were doing some work as you can see.
And here's a photo of Christmas 1952 with me and Stephen. 
My other memory of that Christmas was a visit from St. Nicholas -- Santa Claus -- live and in person! We were gathered with some other family members in the living room and someone knocked at the window. It was Santa!* I am sorry to say that I was frightened and hid behind a chair. Stephen, however, enjoyed the "visit" and laughed happily. 
* Later exploration has decided that it was either my uncle Ellis Moore or his half-brother Hank Nugent who dressed up as Santa. 
More memories to come -- and some will even have color photos!