Technicolor Winter Memories

The cooler weather is bringing on more technicolor memories. Officially, winter begins on Thursday, December 21st.

I can still picture what it was like to play outside with my friends on a really cold day. I’d go to the next farm and be able to stay out until dark. We might play tetherball or ride our bikes around. No wristwatch is needed; just look at the sky. Then I’d hurry home for supper. I had a habit of parking my bike and then checking the outdoor thermometer attached to the egg room wall. COLD, it said! It didn’t seem to matter to me at twelve years old!

I remember that our work areas had minimal heat. The egg room we used every day wasn’t insulated; it was just a wood frame building with a tin roof. Drafty, too. We’d heat it with a floor-model kerosene stove. Chores could take hours, and that little stove was a great thing to stand beside!

After playing outside, I looked forward to dinner and some television. And inside the house was my grandma, Pribula. (Mom’s side of the family). She had her favorite spot—-sitting on the sofa right next to the gas floor furnace. That box-like heater was installed below the floor line and had a grate on top. It could certainly pump out some serious heat! A pilot light was lit by hand. That was Dad’s job! I liked to stand on the floor grate for a while and feel the warmth. I also liked to listen to the reassuring tick, tick, tick of the furnace below.

During the 1960s, Grandma Pribula came from Illinois and stayed the winter, moving into my brother Lou’s bedroom. Grandma was a tremendous help. She was so strong, she could carry a full basket of eggs in each arm! Grandma did it all—-washing, cleaning, cooking, and ironing. She certainly still had some muscle. One often-repeated story is that she cleaned our window blinds so hard that she removed flakes of white paint! And I’ve seen her hand-pluck the pin-feathers off a chicken! I remember she didn’t seem to mind that her hands were red and raw from being in super hot water.

Grandma’s arrival was greatly anticipated. She came off the plane carrying a smorgasbord of wonderful foods. She had a duffel bag of sausages and bratwurst, Wisconsin cheeses, and jars of dried mushrooms from the north woods. I’m sure that wouldn’t pass security today, even if the carry-on bag was toted by a harmless-looking woman in her 70s!

Shopping for Christmas presents was certainly different in the 1960s. There were no computers or cell phones; therefore, there were no quick orders or easy packages. Instead, I read newspaper ads and checked over store displays. And I paid cash for purchases, saving part of my weekly allowance for them. Does anyone get an allowance anymore?

I usually got Christmas done with one shopping trip to Brooksville for holiday gifts. The main stores I liked were Roger’s Department Store and the Quality Shop. I also frequented a jewelry store across from the courthouse called A.G. Fridy’s. It has been around Brooksville since 1914.

One year, I recall going seriously over budget. Upon the jewelry clerk’s recommendation, I purchased Mom a cut glass compote that came with wax fruit. It was $13, which was a small fortune to me back then! But it would look lovely! Bowls of wax fruit were all the rage and a common display in many homes in the 1960s. I’ve since tossed the wax fruit. Yet I have the glass compote to this day! It holds old Christmas ornaments this time of year and always makes me smile!

As it got closer to Christmas, Dad would set up the Lionel train set he had as a boy. I often wonder what it cost new during the Great Depression. Lionel was pricey even then. They had a strong reputation as a train manufacturer and no direct competition during the 1920s and 1930s. Dad’s train set was a simple affair with an oval track, depot, engine, and several Pullman cars. Power came from an electric transformer. As the train rounded the track, I could see small lights blinking in the cars and tiny red bulbs flashing at the crossings.

But this train wasn’t for running under the tree like those in most homes. It was set up on our porch floor. That was the coldest room of the house, closed off from all the rest.

This room also had the house telephone. It was our only one. Just imagine a single landline and one that you rotary dialed. And it was a party line to boot! With a party line, you had to listen closely for the ringtone that was yours alone. Maybe it was two long rings followed by one short one. I recall many chilly hours talking on that phone on a winter’s evening! I also recall being told to get off the line because our neighbor wanted to use it! And then you had to be careful around the train set in December. You had to step over the track as you entered the back door. That gave a whole new meaning to “watch out for the cars!”

Another winter memory is that of having milk delivered from Gustafson Farms. For over 100 years, Gustafson’s was one of the largest privately owned dairies in the southeastern United States. They had a farm of 10,000 acres located in Green Cove Springs, Florida, in Clay County.

So, how did home milk delivery work? Well, we’d put the empty milk bottles, money, and a note on our back steps. The next morning, often before we got out of bed, our order was filled. The milkman had been down our driveway long before sunrise. I also remember having milk, not soda or tea, with most meals. It was the drink of choice, popular, and advertised on TV shows. It was common to see Wally Cleaver (of “Leave It to Beaver”) or Ricky Nelson (of “Ozzie and Harriet”) gulping down a glass of milk! A gallon of milk averaged as low as 36 cents in early 1960 and gradually crept upwards in cost to break a dollar within a few years.

I also remember the wonderful cakes and cookies associated with Christmas. My Grandpa Alois (Dad’s side of the family) was a retired baker from Illinois. It was so handy that he lived right next door! He made the best Christmas fruitcake! I know fruitcake gets a terrible rap sometimes, but Grandpa’s version was dark and rich, loaded with raisins, nuts, and candied fruit. We sliced it paper thin! The fruitcake was kept in a round metal tin and never dried out. It was sprinkled with a bit of rum, which improved the taste the longer it sat!

Another technicolor memory is of all the Christmas cards we received! One year on the farm I counted 100 of them! Most of them contained notes, letters, and photos from family or friends. Quite a few were from people in Illinois, where Mom was born. And Mom spent hours on her cards and letters. I’m sure that’s where I get it from—this obsession of mine with cards, notes, and stories.

I can recall punching holes in our Christmas cards and stringing them with ribbon. They hung proudly from archways and curtain rods all over the house. Rooms were filled with cards—winter scenes with Christmas trees, Santa, angels, sleighs, and snow. I wish I had a photo of those Christmas cards hanging on display. Memories of them are still vivid and bright!

I recall details about our Lutheran church on Christmas Eve. They always had a large, decorated cedar tree. It was full of lights and as tall as the ceiling. The church pews were packed. Children came forward and got a box of hard candy to take home. The closing hymn, “Silent Night,” was sung as the church lights dimmed.

Then afterward, we’d all spill out into the church parking lot and chat for a moment, no matter how cold the weather. Friends and family are saying, “Merry Christmas!” The sky was always amazing back then. It was perfectly clear and full of stars. And there was a silver moon, wonderfully full.

This year, we have an additional present. Some call it a belated Christmas gift. Our Cold Full Moon appears on Tuesday, December 26.

Merry Christmas! May you make some technicolor memories this year!