Classic Christmas Stories (26 page)

by Colin Burke

E
ARLY CHRISTMASES IN CORNER Brook were practically community get-togethers and a lot of fun, according to William Herdman of 2 Hammond Drive, who at 85 is one of the city’s
oldest residents.

Mr. Herdman, who came to Corner Brook Jan. 10, 1923, recalled for
the
Western Star
this year his first Christmas in the city after moving
with Mrs. Herdman to his new house here. They came to Corner Brook
intending to stay two years.

Some of the first houses in the townsite had been completed in
September of 1924, and mill company officials—Mr. Herdman, who
retired as secretary-treasurer of Bowaters, was the chief accountant there
from the Glynmill Inn, where they had been staying.

“The officials took the houses on Park Street, and we occupied a
house behind the Majestic Theatre on East Valley Road.”

The water and sewage services had been installed, with “very deep”
digging, “and the streets were just mounds of snow, ” Mr. Herdman said.

“At Christmas, all the residents of the Glynmill Inn, and those who
had moved out to the houses, decided they would hold a big Christmas
tree party in the lobby of the Glynmill Inn.

“Everybody’s name was placed into a cardboard box and everybody
drew out a name. They had to provide a present for the person whose
name was on the drawing which they had taken out. They also had to
write a verse about that person.

“Before midnight, everybody gathered around the Christmas tree
and sang Christmas carols, and then Santa Claus appeared”—complete
with pillow in an appropriate place to enhance the overall impression.

“Santa Claus got busy and distributed the Christmas presents”—
assisted by various helpers. “It was a great Christmas Eve.”

About noon on Christmas day, “all the parents and their children”—
there were not too many parents here in those days—assembled again at the
Glynmill, and again “gathered around the piano and sang Christmas carols.”

“Then Santa Claus appeared again, and most of those present,
especially the kiddies followed Santa Claus singing ‘Jingle Bells.’” They
paraded up the emergency stairs, through the dormitory in the top staff
house then—and down the main staircase in the Christmas tree, where
everybody was presented with a chocolate bar.

Then came the Christmas dinner— “everything from soup to nuts”—
with roast beef, turkey, and goose, “and no shortage of wines.”

“It was a lively town in construction days, you know, ” Mr. Herdman
remarked. “They were a wild crowd and the hotel was the centre of all
company social gatherings.”

A big dinner was also held at the Inn on New Year’s Eve. The same
procedure took place the following year, but that year a party of 15 or
16 got a sleigh and horses from the transportation department and a
portable organ was placed in the sleigh. A group who had been practicing
Christmas carols for the past week went around with a red hurricane
lantern to the houses in Cobb Lane and Marcelle Avenue, “and most of
them passed out on the journey.”

“And to the best of my recollection it was a marvellous time, ” said Mr.
Herdman. “It was a real Christmas.”

And the Christmas atmosphere was increased for the children, and
following Christmases by grownups who assisted Santa, as “some of them
would run down to the parents and find out in advance what the children
were getting. So that when Santa met the child on rounds through the
community, he would address him by name and tell the child what he
was going to bring.”

This made Christmas very real for the children, Mr. Herdman said.

Mrs. Herdman, who came to Corner Brook with her husband, says
there were only 10 children here when women organized the first Christmas
party for them. The next year there were about 100. The following year,
when a party was organized by a local store, there were 1,000 attending—
but some of these came from communities as far away as Bonne Bay.

And the fourth year, there were too many to have a party for them all.

These first Christmas get-togethers were chiefly for company officials.
There were 5,000 or 6,000 construction workers here at the time, who lived
in bivouacs in the summer and bunkhouses in the winter, Mr. Herdman said.

“But at Christmas and New Year, most of them, being baymen, made
a beeline for home.”

Author Unknown

Y
OU'VE GOT TO WONDER if we aren't missing out on a lot
of fun at Christmas time these days. Take the ancient custom of
jannying, for instance; what with television, cars, telephones, restaurants, movies, and a much busier and faster way of life, that old tradition
of a slower and less pressured way of life has gone almost out of existence.

However, the custom of jannying has certainly not gone out of the
memory of many of the pioneer citizens of Grand Falls—it is probably the
best remembered highlight of Christmas in the early days of this town.

Ask Mrs. Heber Hiscock on Junction Road, for example: she came
to Grand Falls in 1907 at the age of five. For her, memories of Christmas
in those first years of the town center around that activity of visiting
different houses and being treated to overflowing quantities of sweet
syrup, Christmas cake, fruit, nuts, raisins, and so on. As she describes it,
“We used to have a whale of a time.”

“The jannying would get going, usually, after Christmas, and would
continue until about January 6—old Christmas, ” she recalled in an
interview. “There was very little else to do, of course. You just went visiting
all our friends, but just the same, when we came home from jannying we
would never want to see another glass of syrup or another piece of cake
again. We'd always eat more than our fill. But when the next night came,
sure enough we'd be out again, raring to go for another round of the house.”

Of course, jannying did not involve just eating and drinking—you
had to compare Christmas trees with your young friends, to see who
owned the biggest and the best-decorated.

And then there was the fun of simply getting there—plowing through
the snow on your way around the streets, leaping and plunging through the
drifts, sliding down the hills, and getting soaked to the skin in the process.

“Children have not changed very much over the years, ” Mrs. Hiscock
noted. “I remember my brother and a crowd of his friends would gang
up and be ready with the snowballs when the girls returned home from
jannying. We'd have to run the gauntlet to get indoors.”

In Mrs. Hiscock's opinion, the children in 1911 and 1912 were no different
from the children of today—they only had fewer gifts in those times.

“Human nature doesn't change. Just the way of life changes—it was
a much simpler way of life in those times. You got a lot less at Christmas
than children do today, but then you were satisfied with a lot less. When
I was a young girl we had little at Christmas, but we still enjoyed it very
much. We'd never go to sleep the night before, for we were too excited
about the day ahead. But I think that if kids today woke up on Christmas
morning to what we woke up to, they would be disappointed.”

Although the families then had little, Mrs. Hiscock declared that she
cannot remember a sad Christmas. As simple as that time may have been
in comparison with today, she stated that there was always something to
do, something to make the happiness and brightness of Christmas as real
as it could be.

Mrs. Hiscock's father, John Knight, who worked as a foreman under
Tom Brown, the carpenter responsible for building most of Grand Falls,
would usually cut and bring in the Christmas tree on the day before
Christmas. Often the parents decorated it themselves, but the children
also got their chance to participate in the fun.

“We decorated the tree with whatever we had on hand—the
decorations were simple, but the trees were pretty all the same. We'd
string popcorn together, cranberries, fir and spruce cones; we'd cut out
wreaths and angels and things like that from Christmas cards, and string
them up with colored wool. There were always plenty of decorations, if
you used your imagination. Some people would put up candles in small
candleholders on their tree, but we never did—it was too dangerous.”

The house, too, never lacked decoration. Cones of fir and spruce
ribbon would be hung, colored ribbon would be strung in many places,
and of course wreaths of spruce boughs were easy to make and provided
excellent decorative pieces.

“We had to make do with what we had, but it was enough—we had
such marvellous Christmases.”

There always seemed to be plenty of entertainment at Christmas time
in the early 1900s as well. Mrs. Hiscock recalls the tremendous parties
for the school children the A. N. D. Company would hold, brimming with
candy and gifts, and never without a visit from jolly old St. Nick. The
Salvation Army would hold a Christmas concert on Christmas night, and
again Santa would always be there. “It seems a bit late, I know, but we
used to hold it anyway. And it was always quite a concert.”

The Salvation Army provided many a moment of music well
remembered for Mrs. Hiscock, as well, appearing on the streets without
fail unless it was too stormy. “The band was like a group of Pied Pipers.
A swarm of youngsters would always follow them around, wherever they
went. As soon as the people heard them playing, the doors would fly open
all along the street, and people would be ready with their donations even
before the collectors got to their houses.”

Mrs. Hiscock recalls Monsignor Finn making generous contributions
to the band every time they played in front of his residence. “I really liked
Monsignor Finn—everybody did. He would always come out to hear the
band, no matter what the weather, and talk to us, give us his donation. He
was a real gentleman, and a very gentle man.”

On Christmas day itself the Knight children would wake to find their
stockings bulging with fruit, nuts, and candy, and perhaps a small toy for the
younger children. Gifts usually were toys for children under 11 or 12, and
for those over that age the presents were of a practical nature in most cases.

“Christmas is different in every household, I think, ” Mrs. Hiscock
noted. “It depends on what customs your parents were used to. For
example—our father would read us the Christmas story from the Bible,
every Christmas morning. We always had a goose for Christmas dinner,
too, while we knew a lot of people who had turkey, and quite a few who
had venison, or caribou.”

For Mrs. Hiscock, Christmas in the early Grand Falls was the big
highlight of the year: “We really enjoyed ourselves. We appreciated
everything we had no matter what it was. Christmas time was the time of
the year. There was nothing during the year to match the fun we had, or
the gifts we got—not even birthdays measured up.”

The town has changed drastically, the province has changed greatly, the
entire lifestyle has changed from the early 1900s. But as Mrs. Hiscock was
quick to point out, people themselves have not changed that much—we
may not do much jannying, but we still, as then, “have a whale of a time.”

by Gary Kean

I
T WAS CHRISTMAS 1982 and there sat Tommy at the dinner
table with his wife, six children and his mother.

Weeks earlier, his fourth-oldest daughter had asked him not to
ruin Christmas for everyone again this year by getting drunk.

Tommy had promised her he would not have a drink. Not until after
dinner, at least. But there he sat at the dinner table with a raging buzz that
had started with “the straightener.” He needed to deal with the hangover
that had greeted him Christmas morning.

Someone at the table said something Tommy took exception to.
He snapped a comment right back and the fireworks began. Within 10
minutes of the family sitting down for what should have been a moment
to bring them all together, Tommy found himself sitting at the table all
alone.

“It’s all right, dad, ” said his son after letting Tommy contemplate his
broken promise for a little while. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

Tommy, not his real name, realized right there and then the mistake
he had made was turning his back on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA)
earlier in the fall.

He had called AA on his own, hoping members would show him
how to drink responsibly. When he realized AA was about giving up
drinking altogether, he conveniently skipped out of his house before the
two members he had contacted came to pick him up for his first meeting.

After the Christmas Day experience, though, he knew it was time
to give AA another shot. Later that evening, he had a glass of rum and
water. Then, he had another—the last drink he has had in the nearly 29
years since.

Tommy, now 84 years old, had actually stayed away from booze for six
weeks after making that first call in the fall of 1982. One night of drinking,
even though it was in moderation, was enough to end his dry spell.

“Within a week, I was right back to where I was the night I first called
AA, ” said Tommy.

It wasn’t just Christmas that Tommy had ruined. He was drinking
heavily before he got married at age 30 and the sudden increase in
responsibilities that came with having kids only exacerbated the problem.
The two or three beers at the tavern after work devolved into staying at
the bar until closing time and going to work hung over almost everyday.

“I had small children and don’t remember much about their first
words or first steps, ” said a regretful Tommy. “I caused my family a lot
of problems. I was never cruel to them and they were always fed and
clothed, but there were lot of things they could have had and should have
had if I didn’t drink the way I did.”

Tommy never had a car until he was 39 because he was afraid he’d
drink and drive, not to mention he would rather spend money on booze
than gas. When he finally did buy a car, it wasn’t long before he was
sloppily navigating the back roads in order to avoid the police. The one
time he was pulled over wasn’t a deterrent. The officer knew his brother
and let him go with a warning.

By the time Christmas rolled around in 1983, Tommy was nearing a
full year of sobriety and was well on his way to repairing his relationship
with his family.

“I wondered how I was going to sit at the table and face my family
after what went on the year before, ” he said. “I wanted to make amends
and, you know what? I sat to my Christmas dinner and ate it and I don’t
think I even thought about being an alcoholic that day. That’s when I
knew that, if I could do this for one year, I could keep going.”

Tommy knows he is lucky to be alive these last three decades, let
alone to have regained his family’s respect.

It’s all because of the call he made to AA on Christmas Day in 1982,
the continued support of that fellowship, the inspiration from his family
and his determination to stick with the program.

The program offered at AA is more than putting down the drink, as
Tommy learned. It’s also about learning how to deal with the myriad of
emotional and social hurt the alcoholic’s drinking has caused.

This weekend, Tommy will be among more than 200 AA members
from across Newfoundland and Labrador and Nova Scotia expected
to be in Corner Brook for the 47th annual assembly for Area 82 of the
organization.

AA is not just about helping oneself, said Tommy. Part of its mandate
is to reach out to those still struggling with the alcoholic demon inside
them.

Since he stopped drinking, Tommy has dedicated the rest of his life
to helping others do the same. And he has helped many others, acting
as their mentor on their difficult path to overcoming the disease of
alcoholism.

“Some people don’t make it at first, but then they finally get it, ” he
said. “Some don’t get the opportunity to come back. I know an awful lot
of people who have died too early because they couldn’t give up booze.

“I definitely consider myself one of the lucky ones and I want to help
get other people sober.”