Christmas of 1957

 

Christmas of 1957

Walking home from 7th grade at Christmas recess was a lesson I might never have learned in school. Ronnie, Harry & I were free for two whole weeks and were anticipating the whole Christmas thing. We were in-fact, junior high school punks with delusions of exploded self-worth that alluded to descriptions like “steel nerves” and “untouchable”. So, there we were on June Avenue, after just having trespassed through someone’s yard, and on down the hill for the umpteenth time. The world was our oyster and now coming into view, so were those Christmas tree bulbs on the man’s tree outside his house. We ran up to the tree and began unscrewing them and stuffing our pockets. We had the tree about 3/4 stripped when the man came running out of his house to get his bulbs back. He proceeded with the standard threats which included calling Chief of Police Percy Ervin. Now old Percy, was squarely in his element when dealing with young vagabonds like ourselves. This was the kind of police work he was well known for. This and directing traffic with those white gloves of his, specialties that precluded his solving the ax murder of a cab driver on Scudder Avenue, just two years prior. But that’s another story. Oh, yeah, back to this story...so this guy added a new twist; he wanted our names. Ronnie told him his name was Freddy Piercey and Harry told him his name was Rowland Kitchel. Boy those guys were good at lying on their feet! I was the last to respond and the least creative. Duh, I gave the guy my real name and wished that I could have come up with a good lie like those guys did. He told us that he was going to notify our parents. It seemed that Freddy & Rowland’s parents would be getting an earful, while my two cohorts Ronnie & Harry got off Scott-free. That left only me to contemplate the impending “coal in my stocking” Christmas. We gave the guy his bulbs back and parted ways, all of us with long faces, but as soon as we were out of sight, I was the only one left with a long face. I was worried that Dad and Percy Ervin would team up and give me the old one-two punch. Maybe they would “send me up the river” and I’d have to learn to make license plates. I was always worried about having to make license plates and getting a JD card (storied to be a Juvenile Detention ID). For me, Christmas this year was ruined and it was all my fault for being part of that stupid caper. If only I could turn the clock back and start over. Now this must have occurred around the 21st day of December as Christmas recess usually started on or about that date. This left roughly 4 days for me to worry about the consequences of my misbehavior. What would I do in the meantime to survive this emotionally? Should I level with Dad? Nah, that was a bad choice. Call Chief Percy Ervin? No, even worse! I guess the only thing left was to consult with my adviser, older brother Steve. I could tell him things like that and he wouldn't judge. He advised me not to worry about it and that the guy would never call Dad or Percy anyway. Steve knew about things like that, having forged the way before me. I decided to take Steve’s advice and when Christmas Day arrived, it was as though the caper had never happened. Now, looking back I hope the guy never contacted Mr. Piercey, or Mrs. Kitchel either. I can just see Freddy and Rowland trying to explain that they were never part of this caper. It’s interesting how the initial impact of certain life’s events diminish as we grow older. This little caper was over 60 years ago. Now, after having experienced a myriad of life’s events in the last 70 plus years and most recently having survived my most difficult trials; two catastrophic strokes and a battle with cancer, I can look back on this little caper with a warm chuckle and know that this was no more than a speed bump. Still, these little vignettes of life are cherished, and remembered. They’re the building blocks of who we are. I have called upon this event and similar ones of the past when searching for the wisdom of perspective.