How far back do your earliest memories go? Speaking for the author of this tome, my first days of recall were at Lake Skaneatlas, one of the New York state finger lakes, when we walked up some stone steps to cottage. That's all I remember about that but it was confirmed later that I was 3 at the time. Not bad for a guy that now has trouble remembering yesterday. Ah, the vestiges of time. I remember too, driving down this road that was filled with deep mud from tire tracks and we had trouble keep our old car from skidding to a halt. It was Warwick Avenue, our first home and I may have been 4 this time. We lived at 347 until I was 12 and I remember my Dad finishing our home . My Dad could do anything including sewing clothing for we three boys.I don't recall what the year may have been but a cannon was our 4th of July activity. We loaded it with gunpowder? and it made the loudest bang of any firecracker then available and it was wonderful. That sure woke up the neighbors!! Those days were the beginning of my dreams of a baseball career which never took place. Things like a war and marriage (not related) occurred. We played almost continuouslyfrom May through September in a a field that was strewn with rocks, glass, and other things that made sliding into a base prohibited. Those were some happy days. We weren't aware of the Depression days surrounding us. We were kids and Mom always had some form of food on the table butI took a lot of peanut butter sandwiches to school with me. And to think that today the schools offer a varied menu from which the little darlings can make a selection.
However, Christmas time is what I recall most. My dad always waited until Christmas Eve to buy our Christmas tree because they would be marked down to $1.00 and then he would spend a few hours with us helping to put on the lights and ornaments. It was not like to-day's tree in their glimmering white or blue or some colors not even describable. We always had to go to bed early because Santa would be there any minute. My younger brother Burt and I slept in the same bed and I used to have to hold him in bed from VERY early in the morning because "Santa may not have come to our house yet and we don't want to bother him". The real reason, of which we weren't aware, was that Dad was still painting the soldiers or cowboys or Hussars he had molded from the melted lead in the basement I later found out that many nights after he returned from his night job, he would go downstairs and light the stove and put on the heavy bowl in which he melted his bars of lead. Then he would arrange them in full battle dress in a regimental charge. I think he loved Christmas more than we did. Somehow our Christmases were always joyful and we always got what we wanted. Of course what we wanted were things like a yo-yo not an Intendo or fishing rod instead of an Ipod. Yes, things were different way back then.
But one thing has stayed the same. It is the celebration of the birth of our Savior. It is a time to remember that the Christ child, depicted as having been born in a barn, reigns as our Lord and Master. He stands at the head of our church and is above all the commotion that too many people think of when they think of Christmas. These days are the Holiest of Days and that knowledge is one that I will take to my grave attesting to it's truthfulness. The memories of my childhood are with me forever but as an adult I know the true meaning of this time of the year. In the words of Tiny Tim,"God bless us everyone".
