Charley's Christmas Tale

Vol. 7, No. 4 December 15, 2009

Nevada's Online State News Journal-- Serving Informed Nevadans Since 2003


.

A brush with an old sage:

Charley's Christmas Tale

by Hal Swift

Seems like just about everybody was in at Shorty's Place, sort of having an early Christmas celebration. And, it’s kind of like a family affair, because so many of ‘em have known each other for such a long time.

Old Charley Walker and 'is wife, Miz Abigale, are kind of the unofficial gramma and grandpa of the family, because they're older than anybody there. And, as Charley says himself, "Older than most anybody most anywhere else."

For which, Miz Abigale gives 'im a kick under the table.

So it is that Shorty's more-or-less family has assembled. Waco, and his niece, Sioux, are there. Shorty, of course, seein' as how he owns the place. Vern and Smitty, Shorty’s old Navy buddies have come in. Sheriff Freddie Marks is there, along with Deputy Anson McBean. Dan, the mailman, and Dawn, the letter lady, are there. Sergie Shevelefsky, the Drytown blacksmith is there with his old buddy from their circus days, big Jim Miller--now the owner of the Drytown Mercantile Store.

John, the newspaper man, is there, with ‘is bride, Miz Patty. Logan West and Old John--have brought their banjos, and are helpin' Sioux accompany all the folks who're singin' Christmas songs.

Dave P. Fisher, famous story teller, actor and cowboy poet is there along with 'is wife, Kathy, and their three lovely daughters. And, Miss Margo, the Drytown librarian, is there, settin' quiet at a corner table just, as she says, "enjoyin' the company."

Mayor Geno is at a table with his wife, and some of the town council. "But we're not talkin' business," the mayor says. "We're here t'just sort of lean back and get into the Christmas spirit."

Shorty says, "I'm glad you could be here, Mayor. And y'know, seein' as how we're all kind of mellowed out here, it seems only proper we have a story of some sort. Who's got one you'd care t'share?"

Waco and Sioux are settin' at Charley Walker and Miz Abigale's table, because they don't have any family around now, and their friends at Shorty's Place don't want 'em to feel lonesome.

Sioux speaks up and says, "Charlie was just sayin' a while ago that Christmas now is sure different that it was when he was a little tyke. I'd like to ask 'im to tell us about that, if it's all right with the rest of you."

Sheriff Marks says, "That's gotta be some eighty years ago, Charley. I'd like to hear how it was back then."

All the rest of the folks there say they're with the sheriff, and for Charley to go on.

Shorty says, "Looks like you're elected Charley. The floor is all yours."

Charley says, "Okay then. He takes a sip of 'is sasparilla and says, "The sheriff is almost right when he says this has to be some eighty years ago. Actually, this is Christmas, 1933. I was five-years old a week earlier.

"This is about Christmas that year at my Grandma Schafer's house. She was my mother's mother. Like a lotta folks around there, her family was from Germany.

"Where she lived in Indiana, there wasn't any electricity. The Christmas tree was decorated pretty much as one is today, but we had little candles we put on the ends of the tree branches."

"That," says Dawn, "sounds dangerous."

Charley says, "Well, it was, but we were so careful, we never had a tree catch fire. It did sometimes, but not at Grandma's house. She' wouldn't of allowed that to happen.

"Anyways... her house was big. Grampaw had died some years earlier, so I guess that's the main reason all the family went to her place for Christmas. I don't think she'd have wanted it any other way.

"She just went all out, decoratin' the place. Evergreen branches around the windows, red and green ribbons strung across the ceiling, from the top of the doors, to the top of the windows. My uncles built a nice warm fire in the big ol' base burner stove. Some called it a Parlor Stove. It was a big, pot-bellied stove. As I recall, it had doors on all four sides. In each of the doors was what must've been four or five dozen little glass-like windows made of mica. The glow from the stove was about the friendliest thing you can imagine.

"Then, too, Grandma'd get out all the oil lamps that she never used any other times, and they gave light from every table in the kitchen, dining room, living room, and parlor. Some were hung from special hooks in the ceiling.

"The parlor was a special living room, I guess you could say. And it was used only for entertainin' special guests. We kids thought it a treat to get to go set on the horsehair-stuffed couch and chairs in there.

"The Christmas tree was set up in the parlor. But we didn't get to see it right off. Us kids'd all go to the dinin' room, and Grandma would take all the wimminfolk with her into the parlor, and slide shut the pocket door between the two rooms. Most of the men would stay with us kids while we all rassled around on the floor. Except for when we were eatin' feffernuss, German cookies all covered with powdered sugar. We'd eat them things till we almost got cramps.

"Finally, one of the men'd say, "Okay, kids. It's time."

"We'd blow out all the lamps. Then someone'd slide back that parlor door, and there'd be that big ol' Christmas tree, lighted by a hundred of them little candles."

Sioux says, "Awww, that had to be beautiful, Charley!"

"It was," says Charley, "almost more'n a little kid could stand. The tree always seemed t'look bigger than we expected it to. 'Course, it was the wimminfolk we had t'thank for it. They did all the plannin', and all the work. Us kids were so impressed we just stood there, our eyes and our mouths wide open. There was presents piled high all around the base of the tree. And we'd all kinda nudge each other and crane our necks to see if there was one for us. However, before the presents got handed out, we had to extinguish all of them little birthday sized candles.

Deputy McBean says, "What'd you do, blow 'em all out? That sounds like a big job."

"It was," says Charley, "but it was mostly the grownups who did that. Us kids'd blow out some of 'em down low, but someone older would always check to make sure we did it right. There was always a bucket or two of water in the corner of the parlor, just in case we needed it.

"Sheriff Marks says, "I bet the smell of those candles was pretty strong."

Charley says, "Oh, it was. And, y'know? If I close my eyes, I still can smell 'em. Brings back a lotta fine memories."

Sioux has moved back over to the pianna by now, and begins playin' the song, "O Tannenbaum," or "Oh Christmas Tree. Logan West and Old John the Paiute elder, join in on their banjos. Then, after Charley sings a verse in German, ever'body else joins in, in English.

When the song is over, Sioux says, "Charley, I didn't know you could speak German."

"Learned it from my grandma," he says, "But I quit in 1939, when the Nazis invaded Poland. But that's a whole 'nother story."

If you were in Shorty's place this evening, you probably drank your fill of buttermilk, sasparilla, or sassafras tea, and you probably got to join in singin' all your favorite Christmas songs.

Which is what we all did until along about midnight.

Finally, when Shorty says it's time to close, everybody files out the door, all huggin' him and each other, and sayin' "Merry Christmas!"

Before closin’ the door, Shorty calls out one last time, "Merry Christmas, Charley! Merry Christmas Miz Abigale! Merry Christmas everybody!"

•••

Here's a link to a photo of the base burner stove

http://tinyurl.com/5qwz3c

For a photo of a Christmas tree lighted with candles go here.

http://www.santaspostbag.co.uk/images/history-of-the-christmas-tree.jpg

You can check out the kerosene lamps here.

http://tinyurl.com/yjybhxr

For more about "mica" go here

http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/mica