GROWING UP IN LOUISA: Christmas Gifts

Christmas Gifts

This is the season that many of the merchants of our little town in the eastern foothills of Kentucky, looked forward to each year. I don’t pretend to know the figures or percentages that December sales represented to total annual sales, but I know it is made up of what most store owners consider an urgent surge that can make it all worthwhile. For many it is ‘make or break’ as the invoices arrive from suppliers and brokers who encouraged merchants to buildup inventories making sales possible. For smaller, local stores, having the right items in stock and on display was the key to survival. Knowing this, I have taken a few moments to reflect on memories of years of Christmas gifts given and received during my growing up years.

It wasn’t just the effectiveness of the marketing efforts by wise storekeepers, but also a result of parents wanting to make Christmas as enjoyable and exciting as possible for their children. Of course, since the world was just coming out of a deep depression and had faced years of rationing, it was hard for some families to make it work. I’m sure that some years were ‘fatter’ than others just as we experience in today’s world. In our family we somehow had at least a few toys under the tree, but mom was quick to point out that it was still the season with its music, decorations, food, and especially the people that made it special. Finances were generally things that kids didn’t need to know about, so they weren’t discussed around us. Frankly, money was only marginally of interest to us. We understood fairness, and carefully watched for inequities. We compared our circumstances to our peers, but we also knew and accepted that life had its disappointments. We were ready to adopt a good attitude even if we were let down because we knew in our hearts we were loved and our parents had done their best.

I’ve heard stories of friends and relatives who simply received some fruit and nuts in their Christmas stockings. They were hard-working families who were trying to hammer out a living in a tough environment. Some were farmers, other worked in the mines, and still others were between jobs. Kids didn’t have to be in the loop, but we could see the signs and adjust our expectations. Our family was no different. The only income we had was Aunt Shirley’s salary from teaching. Both she and my mom worked part-time some years to try and help pay the bills. Christmas must have been a burden for them now that I look back.

I remember the teachers at grade school helped us design and create our ‘gifts’ to mom by writing and drawing Christmas Cards. My mom was proud of my creation and posted it on the tree for all to see. Years later the bulletin board was the magnetic refrigerator surface, but not during those early days.

As for my buying gifts it was ‘hit and miss.’ If I was lucky and had some money I would go downtown to one of the department stores and buy mom a handkerchief or a box of Whitman Samplers. Years later when I was in the military making a small income, I bought her a large silver-plated case of dinner wear.  She was pleased and used it only for important meals. I felt happy just as I had back when I made her a special Christmas Card.   

In other families it was normal for fathers and grandfathers to work in their shops making a gift for the upcoming holiday. I remember rocking horses that stayed busy with toddlers and older kids until finally it was too small or embarrassing to play with ‘kid’s things.’ I’ve seen, or used the wagons, or work tables made for teens. We use one of that type today to haul small loads of firewood around. At the same time my granny was hard at work making a quilt, some doilies and even scarfs and warm sweaters. Girls made aprons, an item that was constantly used. Nothing beats a gift that fulfills a need for the family.

They cost money, but board games were big in our house. Monopoly and Clue were used over and over. We played Chinese checkers, pickup sticks, chess, and many other such games. Gifts were often for the whole family instead of a particular kid. That gave us all ‘rights’ to use these rather than having to ask permission to use. We all used the Slinky’s and Hoola-Hoops. Those two were a national fad back then. Everyone seemed to be outside making that hoop spin! Today we’d say they had gone viral.

There were gifts of toys that were considered to be for boys and then some for the girls. While they seemed to fit a need for future homemakers, that would be cause for rebellion today with some women but in those times, it was thought to be preparation for the future. In developing products and marketing, the male/female lines are more blurred today. I remember cousin Julia got a toy bake oven that came with some small boxes of cookie and cake mixes. I wasn’t a girl but I was certainly in favor of making some cookies! One Christmas she got a toy baby stroller which she used to push her dolls up and down the sidewalk, but at other times she was a ‘tom-boy.’ She got a dollhouse another year that had furniture for each of the rooms of the two-story home. If no one was around to see me, I played with her. I pretended to be the father. I remember spending hours cutting out paper dolls and outfits for her to play with. I had more talent with the scissors. She’d forget and cut off the tabs so the pattern was ruined. I didn’t tell anyone I did this.   

Over nearly eighteen years I got Christmas toys that became long-standing friends. We were slow to share because we had seen some of these go to the trash heap because of rough play. Cardboard toys and the early plastics were especially prone to break. Windup toys such as ‘merry go ‘rounds,’ race cars, strutting metal hens, a flat-foot dancer, a robot, and music boxes got their time in the sun, but didn’t remain high on our favorite toy list for long.

I remember a big inflated toy clown that had sand in the bottom. This enabled us to punch the figure and knock it over, but it always sprang back up. Mom thought it encouraged violence, but it was a relief for frustrations, too. When I got mad at something or someone I punched the clown out with all my might! Friends got stuffed animals, and a toy cash register so we could play ‘store.’ I remember a toy vacuum that required the user to push for it to work. We found out a broom did better work.

As we got older the toy record player was replaced by a real one that played the 45’s that had replaced the old 78’s. When I was in high school some of the ‘high-fi’ records (33 1/3) replicated a much truer sound. I was into classical music at the time but enjoyed Broadway, popular, and even some country music.

I once was given a catcher’s mitt at Christmas. Because of that I played that position all of my years in school and the military. My friends called me Yogi, after the great Yankee’s catcher of the day. I also once was given a Louisville Slugger bat that I carried around for my playing years. I loved toy cars, trucks, planes and construction equipment. One Christmas I was given a bike that I used for most of my teen years. Later, mom gave me an English bike. It was smaller in stature and not able to withstand the wrecks I often experienced. I didn’t understand the bike. Neither was the bike able to adjust to me, so I finally gave it away to someone. I never figured out why it had all these gears and things. I had to toot my friends on the handlebars and that dumb headlight and gear shift was in the way. I had learned to use the hand breaks but don’t know why to this day it had front brakes. Those were dangerous and led to more than one wreck.

One of the more interesting things in my life relates to a favorite toy. One Christmas my cousin George opened his present and found an electric train. It was an American Flyer set with a heavy engine with four drive wheels on either side. More importantly it had C&O painted on its side! It was like some of the larger trains that carried loads of coal from southeast Kentucky through Louisa on to the coal piers in Newport News, VA.

That same morning, when it was my turn to open a big box, I discovered I also had an electric train only slightly smaller than the one George got. Mine had two drive wheels on the engine. Both had whistles, a headlight that worked, and smoke that came out of the stack. Wow! We were both in heaven. The track was just like the real thing, with only two rails instead of three that I had seen so often in toy models. Ours were authentic and wonderful. I had no idea that later in life I would move to live less than a mile from those same tracks that carried the black coal from Kentucky to parts unknown. It seems every time I move I’m still connected to those rails. Today, I am further up the line but I can hear the trains passing. I live on a peninsula of sorts, and must cross the tracks to come and go to my home, less than a mile away.

Years after I got the electric train I was informed that it was a gift from my father, a man I never knew. The toy train is gone as are the gifts of other years. I still have the memories and have gone through a time watching my kids and then later, their kids as Christmases unfolded before my eyes. I’m thinking that no matter how far we roam, we still have our ties to the past. Our memories lend a measure of comfort and an element of hope. I may be older, but I’m still very much the little kid from Kentucky who remembers Christmases past. Those happy days makeup who I am, today.   

Even with all the gifts of cowboy and outfits, toy bikes, and typewriters, and an overly difficult construction set and chemistry set, I had more than I needed. Whether it was the war years, the cold war, rockets on the moon, or the age of computers, life has changed. Even so, it has remained the same. In the past, we faced good times and some bad times, but we had each other. It’s the people, the excitement and the memories that really matter. Ours is to help the next generations build their memories and have a special, special time celebrating that gift of all gifts back in a stable so long ago. Hopefully, you’ll pause in your busy life and remember some of those days and the wonderful memories of the people you love and the things that make living worthwhile. Merry Christmas!

mcoburncppo@aol.com