CHRISTMAS STAFF STORIES

December 7, 2007
By Bill Sontag
Feature Writer

The Cherished Season

As with countless other people here and elsewhere, this is one of my favorite times of the year. Having had the advantage of a fairly normal childhood, Christmas always conjures up familiar memories and wonderful feelings. I must admit the beginning of spring, on those years when we have one, runs a close second but that is because the cooler, sometimes colder weather, begins to moderate.

But Christmas still reigns as number one. It is the time of year when we are reminded of the birth of Christ. Beyond that it is also the season when families start to put their animosities behind them, hopefully.

Having grown up in the Midwest our Christmases were quite typical. Not quite a “Norman Rockwell” painting “typical,” but nonetheless a day when the family came together. Sometimes there would be a trip to my uncle’s farm in a community eighty miles north of my home, and always on Christmas Day we gathered at my grandparents’ farm a few miles outside of my hometown.

Yes, we occasionally had a “white Christmas”, but usually the temperature was so cold that we did not go outside. On at least one occasion the snow was so deep we almost did not make the quarter of a mile from the highway to the farm because the car got bogged down and my grandfather and father had to return with the tractor and pull it through a drift or two.

Christmas was a day of gift-giving and -receiving, of great food prepared the way only a farm wife with years of experience is capable of. It was a day when friends would drop by and some would leave while others stayed, but most of all it was a day shared with others. It was a day of warm feelings and happiness.

And it remains that kind of day many years later. Although much of my family has passed on, Christmas remains the most special time of the year, usually spent with friends and occasionally a family member or two, if not on the day itself, at least within a day or two. Merry Christmas.

Holiday report cards

Wow, where to start on my feelings of Christmas and just the holidays in general? My best holiday season would have to be about 16 or 17 years ago…the last Christmas I can remember before my grandfather passed away.

It was wonderful, my whole family was together, everyone was happy and getting along. Then my grandfather passed on and things seemed to change, it seems like everyone went their own separate ways. I don’t know, the holidays just don’t seem the same any more.

The worst holiday for me was being with my ex- husband in California about eight years ago. It was the worst I ever had and one I care not to remember.

I now am happily married to a wonderful man and enjoy spending time with him and our families during the holidays. To me that is what the holidays are all about spending time with your family and friends, giving thanks for having each other and celebrating the birth of Christ.

Nowadays, the holidays have become so overrated. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas with out a real tree. I just love the smell of a real tree in my home and it just seems more like the holidays with a real tree. Well, this year I will be spending Christmas here in Del Rio, with my family. Someday I hope to go to New York and spend it there with my kids. That way they can see the snow and the parades and the lighting of the big tree they have in Times Square. But again, that will be “someday.”

I just wish that the holidays seemed more like the holidays instead of just another day to me. I try to get into the holiday spirit, but it is hard when things just aren’t the same as when I was younger and everyone has seemed to have gone their separate ways. I know that everyone has their own thoughts of Christmas, and these are just mine. I do hope that everyone has a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays…wherever you all may be.

Uncle Bubba and King Cotton

Christmas memories start with my roots deep in the Mississippi Delta, having my mom’s side of the family from Stoneville, Miss., headquarters of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s cotton ginning experiment station that my Aggie grandfather helped establish and a bunch of wild characters related to me through my grandmother who are part of the Southern Aristocracy that cleared the fertile Delta land and made big business out of cotton when cotton was king.

Grandma was a great observer of people and generations. She told me, after having lived through the division of my great-grandfather’s cotton plantation to her and her brothers, and their utter destruction of the business (and their lives) with too much partying and not enough toiling in the fields, that families go through cycles of “cotton row to cotton row” in three or four generations. That meant that one generation builds a great business, and the next few drink it away until finally a succeeding generation has to build it back up again.

My childhood Christmases were surrounded by remnants of the glory days of Delta cotton and the plantation. My Uncle Leo Gerdes (pronounced “ger-dez,” but butchered by the deep south drawl of the Delta into “ger-teez,”) was my primary conduit into those glory days. He was 6’ 4” and weighed 250 pounds. In his prime, he was farming close to 15,000 acres in the Mississippi Delta, and every Christmas the entire family, aunts, and cousins would converge on our grandparent’s house for a reunion. Unknown each year was what kind of entrance Uncle Bubba (as we called Leo Jr.) would make, or what kind of presents he may bring. Awaiting Uncle Bubba’s entrance was more exciting than even Santa Claus.

He usually arrived around December 24th, usually after our bedtime, and his entrance was always grand. He drove a Ford Pickup, tricked out with every accessory, including a concrete bumper, grill, a vise on the back bumper, and the truck ran on propane—just like his tractors. But the signature appliance on his Ford Pickup was an air horn, just like the ones on Peterbilts. He would pull that truck up, usually into the front lawn, and blow that horn at 10:30 or 11 p.m. He was usually drunk, too. But as kids we didn’t catch on to that very well.

His arrival gave us all a reason to get up before Santa, much to the chagrin of our parents.
One year, Uncle Bubba placed a huge box under the tree and begged me to open it before midnight Christmas Eve. Inside the box was a saddle. I had no idea why he bought me a saddle until the next morning when I spotted a Shetland Pony tied to one of Grandma’s grand pecan trees in the backyard, nourishing himself on the fine green grass. We kept that pony for two or three years, and I have many fond memories of riding it around the cotton fields of Stoneville.

And I admired Uncle Bubba for being a farmer. Years later, while I was in high school, Uncle Bubba stopped by to see me when I was working at the experiment station as a field technician. By then, Uncle Bubba’s drinking combined with the abysmal agriculture industry had forced him to go bankrupt farming. He was hauling used farm machinery around the southern U.S. farm implement auction circuit.

I told my uncle then that I wanted to try being a farmer. Our family did, after all, have a couple hundred acres of prime farm land we could start on. He said, “Hyde,” (he always called me Hyde) “Don’t do the same stupid mistake I did. Stay over there in Texas and buy yourself an oil well. There ain’t no farmer in the Delta making any money anymore.” I heeded his advice.

Before he was a farmer, Uncle Bubba was a country music singer. He even cut a record in Nashville. On those festive occasions at my parent’s home, he would pick up my acoustic guitar and serenade us. By that time, Bubba’s drinking problem had almost consumed him. So my mother was very worried for him. It was during the Christmas of 1985 that he played what can be considered a “full set.” His favorite songs were those of Hank Williams Sr. His encore performance that Christmas Day was the old Hank song, “I Saw The Light.”

Several months later, Uncle Bubba was visiting friends in Alexandria, La. where he became involved in an altercation with the man of the house where he was staying. The man shot my uncle through the heart with a .38 revolver. Uncle Bubba died instantly.

His sister, my mother, loved Bubba like the rest of the family. Uncle Bubba’s last entrance and concert in 1985 provides special comfort to my mom who worries occasionally about the destination of Uncle Bubba’s soul.

Meanwhile, I am still hoeing down the same cotton rows as Uncle Bubba, hoping my generation is the one that inaugurates the good times for the family.

Childhood Christmases in Nazareth

My childhood Christmases were spent in Nazareth, Israel, with my great family there. I was raised in a very strict Greek Orthodox Church, and served as an altar boy, so Christmas was always very spiritual to us.

Today Christmas is such a far cry from what I grew up with – the love, laughter, fun and family closeness – that it pains me to see how that has diminished. At our home it’s still that old way, but society in general has changed so much.

In Nazareth, Christmas was focused on the children. For example, it was very unusual for a teenager to receive any presents, much less an adult. It was all about the kids. I remember at some time receiving a small battery-operated car, but I don’t remember much after that except clothes. And they were treasured, and it was a great joy to get them. Let me tell you, when I got a pair of new shoes, they stayed in the box beside my bed that night so I could put them on first thing the next morning.

The gifts for children always were given on Christmas Eve, never on Christmas Day. Christmas Eve was the big event when Santa Claus actually walked through our door, and delivered the gifts. But at some age in our lives, Santa would disappear and the gifts with him. Usually on Christmas Eve, we’d have maybe six aunts and two uncles, and their entire clans – usually 20 or 30 children – running around my grandmother’s house, and we’d all have a grand Christmas Eve feast.

Christmas Day then was spent visiting the homes of relatives, going from house-to-house and just talking for 30 or 40 minutes, catching up and congratulating them on the good things that happened over the last year. But this did not include the children – it was between adults, and teenagers becoming adults. Usually you were offered a small glass of a sweet liqueur, perhaps some chocolates and Turkish coffee that was two or three times as strong as espresso.

Now, those years were a great time of my life. It was an honor – kind of a transformation – to be invited to go on those visits with the adults. Then, when I was a kid of 15 or 16, I made those rounds with my cousins, and that was truly a great thing, when you knew you had arrived, that you had come of age.

But things in the Near East have brought about regrettable changes in the practice of Christianity there, and I’m very troubled by what that has done to all the traditions I grew up with. Here however, I still love Christmas for all the wonderful impacts made on me as a child – for the laughter, the family, the children, but not for the commercialism and craziness of shopping frenzies like these huge crowds that descend on stores at midnight after Thanksgiving or at four o’clock in the morning!

The things that make Christmas for me today are the same things that made it a joyous event in Nazareth: Family, friends and spending time with loved ones. I haven’t been back there in probably 20 years, but I think you can see from this how warm and uncommercialized it was as I grew up.

Holiday celebrations reflect who, where you are

Growing up, the holidays were always an awesome time of year . It was usually spent with my dad, mom, brother and myself. My dad was Air Force, and he saved his vacation for visiting relatives in the summer time. We usually lived someplace cold during our holidays, such as Alaska, New Hampshire or Nebraska. It was very exciting to learn how to ice skate, sled, and snow ski.

Some fun family memories that became traditions in my family were ordering pizza on Christmas Eve, driving around the city and enjoying Christmas lights and decorations in the more upscale parts of town, then going back home and opening up gifts on Christmas Eve, even though we had promised to open only one. Another yearly Christmas memory was singing Christmas carols at church and being involved in some kind of Christmas cantata or play.

About nine years ago, I moved down here to Del Rio. It certainly was a hard transition spending the holiday season without an ice storm or three feet of snow on the ground, but I really didn’t mind. Who wouldn’t love to walk out of the house in shorts and short sleeve T-shirts, depending on how warm the temperature was.

I wouldn’t trade the holiday’s here in Texas for anything now, having all my relatives and family all together and close by. This is something that I had always wanted for my children and am thankful for them to be able to experience these great family holidays and memories with extended family --grandparents, aunts, uncle and cousins. I hope the fond holiday memories that I experienced growing up, along with new memories my own family creates, produce life long memories in the lives of my children.

 

Oklahoma Christmas, 1948

Perhaps my most vivid and, yet, hazy remembrance of a past Christmas was 1948. I was five and it was at my grandmother’s house in Elk City, Oklahoma. My parents, brother and I lived in Ft Worth, Texas, and all of my mother’s family was gathering at “Granny’s” for Christmas that year. Just three years past the end of World War II, the economy was converting from war to peace time and the available consumer goods were a mere fraction of what is now stockpiled in stores and malls.

Grandmother, her daughters and son, their family’s and children all got together on a cold Oklahoma morning to exchange gifts and see what Santa had brought. I remember receiving a hand made, hand stamped holster and (cap) sixgun. It seems like I got the standard pajamas, shirts, and jeans. The weather was cold but, with about thirty or so relatives gathered, the cluster of all boy cousins were dressed in warm clothes and sent outside to spend pent up energy after the gifts distributed and breakfast. Dad’s and uncles soon joined in the throwing of a football and laughed while the kids played. The women gathered in the kitchen to prepare Christmas dinner.
Sometime around noon we all gatheredat my grandmother’s large dining table and the additional add-on tables to pray and then eat. With uncles who ranched and farmed there was no shortage of food. It also helped that several were doctors who could tend cuts and bruises from the rough housing as well as the usual winter sniffles and colds. Naps came and went and cowboys and Indians and football started up again. That evening, local relatives adjourned to their homes and took relatives with them to spend the night before returning to Enid, Altus, Canute and other small Oklahoma towns and Ft Worth, Texas.

Since that Christmas, my grandmother, father, mother, brother and sister-in-law have all passed away. It was while looking through old family photographs after their deaths that I came across a picture of that Christmas morning, with everyone gathered together in my grandfather’s study, in pajamas and robes, enjoying a Christmas morning together that I realized what a special year that was. There were no play stations, televisions, I pods, cell phones, as well as a myriad of commercial inventions that may or may not have really contributed to our well being.

It was a time when conversation was enjoyed, books were read, stories were told, family history was related and families had the joy of being together. Commercialism and excess had not even begun to reach the heights we now enjoy. Enjoy? There were so many memories associated with my grandmother’s house and they all revolved around family at special gatherings like the Christmas of 1948 and not things, but people. That photograph made me realize that if I could go back in time, the Christmas of 1948 would be a wonderful place to visit. It was a great year to be five.
Family focus on the important things
Angela Prather

I have very mixed emotions and thoughts about Christmas.
Basically, in the religious sense, Christmas, or December 25, is the day that was chosen by churches to celebrate the birth of Christ, as back then the calendar was different than what we see today. I think that is a very important day and should be recognized!

Now in all other senses, I think this day has been highly exploited into a marketing frenzy that causes debt, depression, guilt, sadness, and many other emotions that society has put upon us. For the kids, and Santa Claus....... that works for me..... I enjoy the lights, music, and the cheerful kids anticipating Santa.

But then it gets all mixed up with the kids that now expect gifts, pressuring parents and family for items, then throwing fits if they don’t get what they want. What about the parents? What about the poor? What about our troops? It all gets messed up!

The worst Christmas for me was one year when I could not get home to be with my mom and dad. To me, being able to give them a gift made me the happiest and still does, after all they have done for me. But one year I couldn’t get down to Del Rio over the holidays to spend time with my family. Had to work. Bah, humbug! Without my family there is no Christmas for me. I cried, my friends came and helped me decorate my house, and my friends and I had our Christmas at my house. Not even close. I swore that I would NEVER spend the holidays away from them again, and tried to schedule vacations to ensure that. If I can’t be with my family, there is no reason for all the hype. It’s just another day.

The last Christmas I remember was in 2005. I was with my friend Tommy, and it was just him and me. He could not afford to travel to Minnesota to be with his wife and I could not make it home until after Christmas. We were both very sad, but we made the best of it, went and bought a bottle of wine, sat and watched Christmas movies, and reminisced.

We had made plans to be sure this would not happen again, and looked forward to seeing each other again with smiles on our face to talk about our holidays in the future. Well, my brother died almost a month later. Then Tommy moved to Minnesota, I was in a bad vehicle accident, and then I moved to Del Rio.

I can say that we spent the following Christmases with our families. We had made a pact! Tommy died just one week ago today as I write this.
I have had good times with my family and friends, but I cannot say that this is the happiest of times for me. But I am home now with my mother and father, get to be with them on this day of Christmas and I will be here every Christmas until they are no longer with us. That makes me smile, just the thought that I can be with my family for sure. That’s the best Christmas for me, to see mom and dad smile, and to watch football with my two favorite people! Not the material side that society has imposed on us all, but the blessed side of celebrating the birth of Jesus with the two people who gave birth to me.

Family focus on the important things

I have very mixed emotions and thoughts about Christmas.
Basically, in the religious sense, Christmas, or December 25, is the day that was chosen by churches to celebrate the birth of Christ, as back then the calendar was different than what we see today. I think that is a very important day and should be recognized!

Now in all other senses, I think this day has been highly exploited into a marketing frenzy that causes debt, depression, guilt, sadness, and many other emotions that society has put upon us. For the kids, and Santa Claus....... that works for me..... I enjoy the lights, music, and the cheerful kids anticipating Santa.

But then it gets all mixed up with the kids that now expect gifts, pressuring parents and family for items, then throwing fits if they don’t get what they want. What about the parents? What about the poor? What about our troops? It all gets messed up!

The worst Christmas for me was one year when I could not get home to be with my mom and dad. To me, being able to give them a gift made me the happiest and still does, after all they have done for me. But one year I couldn’t get down to Del Rio over the holidays to spend time with my family. Had to work. Bah, humbug! Without my family there is no Christmas for me. I cried, my friends came and helped me decorate my house, and my friends and I had our Christmas at my house. Not even close. I swore that I would NEVER spend the holidays away from them again, and tried to schedule vacations to ensure that. If I can’t be with my family, there is no reason for all the hype. It’s just another day.

The last Christmas I remember was in 2005. I was with my friend Tommy, and it was just him and me. He could not afford to travel to Minnesota to be with his wife and I could not make it home until after Christmas. We were both very sad, but we made the best of it, went and bought a bottle of wine, sat and watched Christmas movies, and reminisced.

We had made plans to be sure this would not happen again, and looked forward to seeing each other again with smiles on our face to talk about our holidays in the future. Well, my brother died almost a month later. Then Tommy moved to Minnesota, I was in a bad vehicle accident, and then I moved to Del Rio.

I can say that we spent the following Christmases with our families. We had made a pact! Tommy died just one week ago today as I write this.
I have had good times with my family and friends, but I cannot say that this is the happiest of times for me. But I am home now with my mother and father, get to be with them on this day of Christmas and I will be here every Christmas until they are no longer with us. That makes me smile, just the thought that I can be with my family for sure. That’s the best Christmas for me, to see mom and dad smile, and to watch football with my two favorite people! Not the material side that society has imposed on us all, but the blessed side of celebrating the birth of Jesus with the two people who gave birth to me.

No regrets. Just good memories, new perspectives.

As someone who avoids churches, except when friends get married or buried, I feel nearly disqualified to talk about Christmas. But I do have pleasant memories that tug at my conscience for not preserving old traditions, even though most were borrowed from Europe, New England, the Midwest and Hollywood.

My parents, Harold Robert and Lucile Catherine Sontag, were Minnesotans who – thank God – got to Texas in time for me to be a native. But our house was always filled with colors, music and aromas stemming from our German roots and Scandinavian traditions of the North Country, where snow made Christmas “real” in my juvenile perspective.

Mom was always fond of odd trees, caring little for the perfect, soaring conifer. One year we had a live juniper, with branches growing every direction but up. After New Year’s Day, it was planted beside the porch, and, for all I know, is now a respectable 40-year-old tree. As a kid romanticizing the season, I laid belly-down on the carpet, as close as the eye would focus on large green, blue and red tree ornaments on the lower branches, using them as fish-eye mirrors in which to reflect the whole room in sparkling colors.

The house smelled of mincemeat pies, fig puddings, brandy-laced hardsauce, and giblet gravy. Outdoors we heard carolers, and inside, Bing Crosby’s crooning of “White Christmas” and Leroy Anderson’s “Sleigh Ride.” The season was all about music, as far as I was concerned, from tunes my mother taught from illustrated books, such as “Up on the Housetop,” to George Fridiric Handel’s “Messiah” when I was in the South Park High School a capella choir.

On the scale of importance, gifts and deposits from Santa Clause ranked much lower than music, but a few toys meant enough that I still have them: Large, metal trucks that I’ll give to my grandkids – Ryan and Maddie – when they’re old enough to enjoy old, scratched-up toys, and a snowglobe that, after 55 years, turned dark and nasty-looking until I found Dick Heibel, a master craftsman in Northfield, Minn. Heible dismantled it last year, refurbishing the thing with fresh water and new “snow.” It looks the same as when my parents gave it to me when we lived in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio.

And, of course, there were the trains. Little orange boxes with the familiar dark blue “Lionel” label were treasures that spanned nearly a decade of Christmases, probably accounting for a current fascination with real trains today.

As a youth, I was a fairly devout churchgoer, deeply appreciative of the ceremony, music and the musty smell of old sanctuaries. An inspiring message from Reverend Al Freeman at St. Paul’s Methodist Church near downtown Houston could set me thinking, and Christmas Eve candlelight services were an annual, solemn spectacle of light, sound and a measure of serenity.

Today, I’m not much on crowds and festivities except as a spectator at some remove. The hype, hoopla and commercialism have driven me to solitude, either inside our home with my abundantly patient wife, Debbie, or to a quiet wilderness featuring a clear view of the Milky Way against an ebony sky, in bracing air over a landscape of rough stone and thorny plants. Here’s a tip: Big Bend National Park.

 

Hill Country ranch Christmas memories

I hope my memories are correct. (Boy, this getting old is tough business!) My immediate family was lucky enough to grow up on my grandparents’ ranch in Bandera, Texas, so we spent Christmas with them. Mom spent weeks preparing cookies and sweets for the holidays. Anyone within a mile could smell the wonderful treats being prepared!

On Christmas Eve, we’d have dinner and then head off to church for Christmas services. When we got home, we’d gather in Opa’s and Mimi’s living room to “wait for Santa.” Conveniently, there was always a fire in the fireplace, so Santa had to land his sleigh on the roof of our barn in order to deliver our special gifts. We’d hear sleigh bells ringing as Santa and his magical reindeer set off to deliver gifts to all of the other children. Then Opa and Papa (my dad) would head off to the barn to bring in all of the wonderful gifts that had been left for our family. We’d tear into the packages with wonder and delight that only children can have. The next morning, we’d head out to the barn to make sure that the reindeer had eaten all the corn we had left for them the night before.

On Christmas day, we’d all sit down to our formal Christmas dinner; the grown-ups at the big table and the little ones at our own table. It was all a great experience for us (never knowing how much work and preparation was done just to put smiles on our faces and laughter in everyone’s heart). As we got older, we learned just how lucky we were and still are today to have had such wonderful times.

Now everything is so different . . . getting everyone together is so difficult. Everyone has their own families in different parts of the country and world. Different sets of grandparents in different locations; my dad is no longer with us which makes this time of the year sad for me, but he and all he did for all of us is never far from my mind and heart. Every year is a little different, but the old memories are still fresh this long stretch down the road, and we are making new memories each year.

I hope everyone has a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and is able to enjoy the holiday season in whatever traditions they have grown up with. Happy holidays!!

 

Bring back the Christmas spirit

Christmas for me is about spending time with your family while you still have one. Parents are too busy worrying about whether the kids like the presents we bought them, spending too much money to satisfy the person you’re giving the gift to. It used to be, “Hey, I am here to spend the holiday with you, being happy just to see the whole family together having dinner, telling stories, joking, and playing games, and seeing everyone smile because they are spending time together.”

Maybe you can’t spend your whole Christmas with the family because you have to work. Try to spend the time and let your family know that this is what Christmas is all about. I feel the meaning of Christmas has been crossed over to saving money all year or getting loans to buy Christmas. “I want, I want,” instead of, “I like this and hope to get it.”

All I really hope for is to spend time with the ones I still have. I feel like ever since my grandmother passed in 2000 that meaning was lost. Everyone was so depressed that year. The family fell apart big time, which was a total shock to me. She said, “No matter what, stick together!” It was totally opposite, everyone trying to satisfy each other by getting expensive gifts, rather than keeping the traditional celebration, paper fights, singing, joking, etc.

That’s an example of the point I am trying to make. The reason that makes you feel the Christmas spirit. People lose it when they stop believing in it, because they probably gave up. Maybe you moved too far away from your family, or are being hurt by your own reasons, whether you have lost someone special or not.

If you still have that holiday spirit, hold on to it. If you do not have the spirit, try and revive that feeling. Why keep on feeling sad or lonely? I am again trying this year to revive that Christmas spirit. To me, it’s just been another day. Now that I have two special people in my life, I am trying to make this holiday worth celebrating. I hope to make the Christmas spirit come back to life. I hope you, too, will have a Merry Christmas.