As I’m sitting here writing, I am watching “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and this is bringing a blizzard of memories back to me of winters and Christmases growing up in my beautiful small village of Wilson, New York. So you can turn back now, or follow me back a few years. Quite a few years. I can’t be precise on the actual years. Let’s just say early 70’s. Being born in 1965, my memories most likely didn’t start to form that early.
We lived at the end of Lake Street, about a stone’s throw to Lake Ontario. Wilson was, and mostly still is, a quiet and peaceful town. At least I like to think it is. I was lucky enough to live next door to my best buddy growing up. This provided many opportunities for outdoor fun, and some outdoor trouble making. I’ll explain later.
I. Outside
I can remember playing outside on snowy days, and snow drifts that had formed around and near our houses. We had no video games or laptops, or cable tv to keep us inside. Our imaginations were able to thrive. Going outside meant boots, snowsuits, scarves, mittens (snowmobile mittens were best, even though I’ve never ridden on one, and a knit cap, which was usually a Bills with a tassel and you could pull out a face mask that was part of it. I loved that cap.
We would find a large drift and begin to dig out a cave. Back then, we never worried about cave ins or any danger. It was fun to be able to crawl into the hole we dug, and escape the cold and wind, and feel like eskimos. At night it was especially cool. It was so quiet, except for the howling wind, and the air was so frigid, and smelled so fresh. You felt like the world belonged to you. Even just for the couple of hours you were able to stay out. We never thought about wanting to go back inside. We would have stayed out a lot longer. But we knew the drifts would be there the next day.
We would build snowmen, and next door, my buddy had a small hill, small, in his front yard, but we’d still manage to sled down it. Not a wild ride by any means. If we were lucky, my dad would take us to the country club we belonged to, where my parents golfed, but I had yet to start playing. I’m not sure we were supposed to, but there were massive hills that supplied much more excitement and thrills. It only really sucked climbing back up to go down again.
One thing that arose out of snowy days, was snowballs. And how if you could aim and throw, you could try to hit a car driving by, from a fairly good distance. And since my buddy’s dad was at work, we could hide near his front door, take aim and fire, and when we had a hit, run inside and hide, as sometimes the victim would come back and ring the doorbell. We were not thinking of the dangers that throwing snowballs could bring, which you can understand once you become a driver yourself. One day, we hit a car and when I got home, my father was angry, because we had hit the insurance salesman that had an office in the town, and was married to a teacher, and almost everyone knew my family, so a call had been made. So another friend and myself had to walk uptown, not ten miles uphill to and from, but a nice little walk just the same, and go to his office to apologize. He was very kind about it, let’s just say, I never threw another snowball. At cars anyway.
II. Christmases
There a so many memories of different Christmases. One thing I was horrible at, was snooping. We had lists, and I needed to see that my list had been followed. I’m not proud of it, but hey, I was like 7 or 8, maybe nine or ten. Every year my folks would try to find another hiding spot. Either they caught on, or it just turned out that way. I usually found them. Trunk of the car one year. I went outside, on a dark snowy night, while my parents and their friends had their usual Saturday night bridge game. I mean, it sucked because I was ruining the surprise, but at the same time, I was excited to know. Besides, they always had a couple surprises for us that were bigger, and we weren’t expecting.
I was also bad at sneaking a peak at wrapped presents under the tree, by carefully undoing tape and opening the paper just enough to see, and I’d catch a glimpse of my Steve Austin Bionic Man figure. Again not proud. Still happy.
We would always go to Christmas Eve service at the Methodist church, and I loved the lights and Christmas tree by the altar, and listening to the choir singing Christmas songs and hearing the nativity story. We would go home and have egg nog and homemade Christmas cookies. Usually watch some kind of Christmas show. Christmas Day would be watching “White Christmas” and acting out the songs. Then off to bed, and trying to sleep as long as we could. One year, it was 3:30 am! My dad said the following year, we couldn’t get up until our dog Sheba, barked to go out. Which was usually around 7. That year, she barked at 5! lol. We had to wait in dining room until my dad went in living room to turn on the tree.
My mom always made prime rib for Christmas, and the aroma stayed in the air all day. So good. Some of my favorite presents were, electronic football game, you know the one where all the players vibrated and spun in circles. A classic Bills helmet with the red standing Buffalo. Six Million Dollar man figure. Big Jim and his sports camper. Basketball hoop for the garage. Bike. Springsteen’s “The River” album, Planet of the Apes figure. So many to try and remember. I know I’ve told this story, but I don’t care. One year I wanted a wolfman doll like Eddie Munster had. Real bad. I know my folks tried. But this was before the internet and Google. That morning, there was a note from “Santa”. It said, “Dear Edward, I really tried to get you the wolfman doll, but every time my elves tried to make it, it kept waking up and eating them!” That was my dad for you.
One of the reasons I enjoy “A Christmas Story” is even though it takes place long ago, it really feels like it’s for me around that time. Very much like how it was at our house.
III. TV specials
Finally, Christmas meant television specials. “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, “The Grinch” (only the original cartoon version for me), Rudolph, Santa Claus Is coming to Town, Frosty, Little Drummer Boy. The commercial with Santa gliding over the snow in a Gillette shaver top. We’d also watch my sister’s favorite movie, The Waltons:The Homecoming.
These memories stay with me and I love to remember them this time of year. I miss my dad, and it feels good to revisit them.
So if you stayed and read through all of this, I thank you
And Merry Christmas!
