December, 2014
- Welcome to the Knapp’s
I can’t think of a better way to describe many of the holiday memories I have from my childhood. Every family has special traditions which they look forward to each year & ours was no exception. In this issue I’d like to paint a picture of some of the unique holiday activities I grew up with. Next year, Lord willing, I’ll share how the traditions changed as the Knapp family merged with the “more sane” Buckwalter family when Janice & I married.
Let’s begin this picture with Santa Claus. Back in those days there was only one Santa, who always arrived (by helicopter) at the end of the annual Christmas parade on the day after Thanksgiving. If you wanted to see him you needed to go to his temporary headquarters downtown. He was only available there & only until December 23.
In my family, the trek to see Santa always involved lots of excitement in us kids & threats from Mom & Dad that we’d find only a lump of coal in our stockings if we weren’t good.
In retrospect, I don’t ever recall my sister Mary & I being just “good” during the Advent season (or any season). But apparently Santa extended as much grace as God, for we always received presents… along with our coal.
Believe it or not, when I was growing up Christmas shopping never began until the day after Thanksgiving. And stores opened at 9:00 or 10:00 a.m. depending on their regular hours. It would have been considered insane to wake up early to get to the stores by 4:00 a.m. for the official beginning of the holiday shopping season.
The newspaper always counted down the number of shopping days until Christmas.
Sundays weren’t considered shopping days back then because all the department stores were closed. And in my family, the apparent philosophy was to wait until the last possible moment in hopes of getting discounts on what was left.
The first official signs of Christmas at the Knapp house appeared when we unpacked our holiday trimmings from their “secret” hiding place (a section of our house reserved for miscellaneous clutter in what was then known as “the other room”).
The timing of this unveiling was probably around the beginning of December each year. But in the minds of Mary and me, the keys to making it happen sooner involved a lot of whining and promises to “help” set things up. As the years went on, that “help” eventually evolved into help & later into actually doing much of it ourselves.
There was always the same progression to our decorating. First we had to sweep, clean & generally declutter the living room. Usually that began on a Saturday morning and was accomplished with lightning speed by nightfall. Of course, the Knapp method of decluttering meant simply moving it from one location to another…
… hiding it under beds, in closets and in “the other room”. By the end of all the yelling at, telling on & crying, we were all in a sufficiently festive mood to start decorating. Let the fun begin!
Indoor decorations included several ceramic Santas (bought at garage sales), reindeer, and a lighted village set (complete with a crèche & Santa) with a strip of cotton underneath for snow.
Oh how delicate the process was to set this up! Suffice it to say that a hyperactive little boy was only allowed to lay the foundation of cotton “snow” before the other breakable pieces were added. What a delight to my young ego when I was finally entrusted to place the sleigh in the scene – the year I turned 16!
The outdoor decorating was the designated responsibility of my dad & me. We would watch the forecast eagerly for the most opportune night to get started.
If my memory serves me correctly, the lights could only be added along the roof if the temperatures hit single digits or below & the wind was gusting to 50 mph!
We used the biggest, gaudiest colored lights we could find (at garage sales)
and only in later years did we soften our approach by untangling them before we went outside. I can still recall those precious memories:
beautiful colors… broken clothes pins… hot chocolate… & frost bite!
Holiday preparations were always brought to a climax by the decorating of the Christmas tree. The scientific method my dad used for selecting a tree became ingrained in me as wee lad: Begin by waiting as long as possible (until the whining had reached epic proportions), then load the family into the car & drive to a tree lot.
Look for the cheapest (ugliest) trees available. Examine them carefully, turning each one several times to look for bare spots. Then choose the one all the other families left behind & declare, “This is all we can afford!”
But the real adventure began when the tree arrived home! First we had to nail a relatively square cross to the relatively flat bottom of the tree. Then with great fanfare we would try to drag it into the house. My childlike brain could never figure out why it was so difficult to squeeze a 6 foot wide tree through a 3 foot wide door opening.
Suffice it to say that by the time it was actually inside our living room, the “bare” side of the tree we saw in the lot became the best side to display at home. Getting the tree to stand up straight and tall, however, was another story entirely! Without all the superfluous branches that had become dislodged in the process of getting it inside, we discovered that the trunk was the problem. How do you get a tree to stand straight, that at its core is shaped like a C or an S or an X?
“Turn it that way…” “No, its leaning too much to the right now…” “Rotate it half way around…” “Oh no, it’s gonna fall!”
At this point, my dad would graciously bow out to take a nerve pill & go to bed. For the next few hours the rest of us would “joyously” place lights, strands of garland, bulbs, birds, candy canes and icicles on our poor dismembered tree. The process would have taken about 20 minutes if my sister and I hadn’t kept rearranging each other’s handiwork.
Before we were finished we would both be in tears, surrounded by broken ornaments, tinsel & the remains of other homemade works of art. That we lived to do it all again next year is a tribute to my mom’s saint-like patience & her dire warning that if we didn’t stop it right this minute she would get our dad out of bed “to settle this once & for all!”
Between the time the tree went “up” & Christmas itself there many frantic activities to keep us (relatively) out of trouble. There were school programs & rehearsals. Church programs & rehearsals. Making costumes out of bathrobes & towels.
And baking a gazillion cookies, which seemed like a lot at the time,
but actually were gone before the tree was taken down.
Another tradition our family had, was going with our church to sing carols to the “old” people…
…who I now know were not much older than I am today.
The Knapp family had an interesting way of shopping. Mom did it all.
She bought. She hid. She wrapped. And she put on the tags. So on Christmas Day, when the presents were opened we were always surprised. Not just to see what we got, but also what we gave others.
It’s such fun to get a package of underwear from your teenage sister! And without fail, I always ended up giving Uncle Johnny a carton of cigarettes! I think that may have been illegal, even back then.
Though there was less intrigue for her, Mom always seemed pleased with the gifts we “gave” her.
Later in life my brother Ed came along. My dad always referred to him as “our little surprise package!” Being the baby of the family he received a lot of attention & spoiling, but it had its disadvantages too. By then my grandparents were getting up in years & started shopping with the “If he liked it last year, he’ll like it again this year” strategy.
One memorable moment came the year Ed received the very same toy train for the third year in a row & shouted what we were all thinking, but were too embarrassed to say, “Oh, no! Not another train!” As I recall, the next year they didn’t give him a train… or anything else!
No Christmas celebration would be complete without a big meal. In our family, that meant my mom cooked, baked, cleaned & set up for the celebration. As she got older, she developed a new tradition which could be counted on as sure as the dismembered Christmas tree. She always burned the biscuits!
In her defense, it was a big load to carry, what with all the food preparation & being a good hostess as well. She seemed to do fine until the last relatives arrived (45 minutes late). Then she would hurriedly put the rolls in the oven & show our guests where to put the presents, their coats & any food they had brought (usually none). All would be well until we got that special sensation in our nostrils. At which point mom would invariably call out, “Oh no! Mary, you forgot to remind me to take out the biscuits!”
Point to Ponder:
These are some of my memories of Christmas past. I hoped they triggered some of your own as well. This time of year is especially fine for gathering with family & friends to share the bounty we all have been blessed with. But it can also be a lonely time for those who have only memories of their loved ones. Separation caused by death, moving or broken relationships can be devastating during the holidays. Who do you know that could use a special reminder that they are loved? Use this season as an excuse to reach out & touch someone. A letter, a phone call, an e-mail or better yet, a visit can offer a lifeline to a person drowning in loneliness. That is the true spirit of the season.
Blessings,
Ruff
I realize I haven’t even been to the beach yet! 
"Ruff?" 
