Gatlinburg: Beauty from the Ashes

"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted.....

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord

for the display of his splendor." Isaiah 61:1-3

The devastating fires that engulfed Gatlinburg Tennessee, this past November, was a tragedy beyond words. Several lives were lost, and countless homes reduced to ashes. That night was the stuff of nightmares. Viral videos captured the unbelievable scenes of destruction, panic, and heroism. I was not physically there that night, but I, and many of members of my family were awake through the wee hours of the morning, praying hard for this place we loved so dearly. Falling asleep finally, when we realized there could be no more word until morning light provided a report of the devastation. So many were praying for rain that night, and thankfully, the rains came. After seeing the destruction first hand in December, I realize now how sweet those rains had been. If they had not come, I firmly believe all would have been lost.

I cannot begin to describe how precious Gatlinburg has been to our family. For multiple generations it has been a nearby sanctuary. Always welcoming and peaceful, helping us forget the stresses of life, as we literally climb closer to spiritual comforts: Like a balm, renewing our mind, body, and soul. It has been a place of happiness, discovery, and love.

I have also been acutely aware of its sense of history and timeless existence. Its mountains echo thousands of years of nature's cycles: Its relatively short history of man, farming nearby valleys, harvesting nature's bounties, and passing on of ancient traditions. If you have never stood, barefoot, in the rushing mountain stream, and just listened to the symphony of nature around you, then you have not fully lived.

For the past several years, our family has been fortunate enough to spend Christmas in Gatlinburg. Each year, a week of family joy, surrounded by one of our most dear places on earth. During the night of destruction, our reservations for Christmas were a mere afterthought....we just prayed that Gatlinburg would survive to see another Christmas. Miraculously, our little corner of town survived, and we made the trek as planned, due to the pleas of the owner and local officials. Their message? "Please come visit!"

There were many false reports indicating that much of the town was gone. Don't get me wrong. The loss is tragic. There are large pockets of town that are no longer with us....but there are very large pockets that survived! The main strip, for example, and most along River Road, have all survived. It was comforting to see these places still standing - beacons of hope and strength.

Our Christmas of 2016 was wonderful as always. Family and relaxation, and a true sense of thankfulness that the rains had come that night in November. Yet, along with the joy of Christmas, there was grief. Our family had enjoyed a small group of cabins along the Roaring Fork stream for about a decade. They were very much like second homes to us. We had heard reports that they had been lost in the fire, but until we arrived to see for ourselves, reality was still at bay.

It was heartbreaking to see the destruction. Our ritual of walking this road along the stream, and basking in the beauty of history and nature would never be the same. Just last June, we had celebrated my Mother's birthday in one of these cabins. We had walked the road, taking pictures, and breathing in the restorative, oxygen-filled air.

One loss felt most poignantly, was a beautiful red barn, tucked up along side of the mountain base, just across the stream. Local lore said this was one of the first riding stables built in Gatlinburg for the use of tourists back in the 1930s. Seasonally framed in the trees, this picture of history will live on only in our memories, and the photos taken over the years.

The areas of destruction were sobering and heartbreaking. They also served to remind us of the frailty of life, and the savage, unpredictability of nature. Yes, it was man that started the blaze that destroyed so much life, but it was the winds of nature that carried embers in strange patterns....burning some pockets, and turning abruptly in a split second to spare a grouping just next door.

Many of the areas downtown are also still here today because of the valiant efforts of so many firemen. After seeing the videos of folks being flanked by burning forest on either side of their escape route, the firemen were very much in danger that night, and they deserve medals of valor, in my opinion.

As for the beauty rising from the ashes: I was encouraged by other sights we witnessed. During the day, we can see the darkened earth and scorched trees, sprinkled with ghostly chimneys standing as monuments to the pre-fire days. But in the night, standing on the balcony of the condo rental, looking towards downtown, I could see pockets of light sprinkling the hillsides. You could clearly see the areas that survived, and there were many more than I expected. Sadly, there were large pockets of complete darkness, but those surrounding clusters of light were perfect messages at Christmas. Beacons of hope, reminding us all that Gatlinburg will survive, and flourish once again. 

In fact, there were some parcels that had already bulldozed the rubble and had framing already in place, as the sound of construction remained steady. This was a wonderful sign of new life. As we are reminded that beauty comes from the ashes, I can't wait to see the spring growth take over. The area will rise stronger than before, as long as we continue to support its people. The weather is warming up, and the blossoms are unfurling their splendor. For those of you who share this heartfelt regard for Gatlinburg, get those reservations in - it's time to come back!

52 Ancestors #5: The Last Cup of Tea

It is remarkably sad how life changes all plans. Yes, I know, I'm behind on this prompt (as usual), but I never expected to have to write this post. The week we left for RootsTech was atrocious. Our flight was canceled twice before we finally got a keeper, due to, "officially", the winter from hell. Coming home was no picnic either due to another sudden snow storm between the airport and our house! The week before we left, my Aunt Janet went into the hospital with a still unknown affliction. Things were not looking so great, but while we were in Utah, she came out of the illness for just a few days before slipping back further upon our return. She passed away on Valentine's Day.

For me, this prompt has always had parameters. I only profile ancestors who have passed. Which is why I never anticipated covering someone so fresh in my memory banks. However, this has proven to be enlightening in a different way.

When thinking about Aunt Janet, I came to the realization that I didn't really know her very well. She is the first "Aunt" that I have lost out of the five total I had. I have lost great aunts before, but in some cases, I felt closer to them than to some of my Aunts, with a capital A. I also don't feel too bad about that....we moved away when I was a young adult....and some relationships are just naturally stronger than others. And yet, there is always that pang of regret when you realize you let another memory keeper slip through your fingers.

There is also the guilt of realizing that you let the opinion of others filter your view of someone. I knew her through others. Yes, I grew up around her, visited her house often, and talked with her a little. But our family events were SO crowded and hectic, it was rare if anyone got one on one attention. Therefore, traveling through these life events (birthdays, Holidays, anniversaries, weddings, funerals), always gliding near each other, but not directly into the other's sphere, you lose that sense of personal memory. I remember my father talking to her on the phone, and other people talking about her, but I never really formed my own opinion....until now.

Death has a way of cutting through the crap. People suddenly remember the person more fondly than they might have a week earlier. Relationship struggles seem to fade away as we focus on the essence of the person. So what essence do I remember?

I remember a family hierarchy that I will not go in to....but I will say that my Dad and Aunt Janet were the two oldest siblings, and sometimes in the same dog house according to Dear Grandmama (who is still with us at 93!) And yet...despite those family challenges, I do know that Family was the most important thing to Janet. Even when it took a saint to still call them family, she never gave up on them and continued to swim through the muck of family complexities - with a smile on her face. My branch was not so strong...we moved away...still connected to the family, but not nearly as firmly planted. I admire her for that commitment and dedication.

In fact, our moving away did provide a direct memory I have of her that spoke to her character. We moved away, not only because of family strife, but because of devastating financial problems. As a younger person, I was delighted that the problems allowed us to move to Kentucky, but that is another story :-) Our move here was not smooth. It took years of struggling, trying to make ends meet, and finally giving up, pulling up stakes to join the other side of my family who had a house for us to rent. I do remember that time after time, Janet was the one who always helped my Dad financially throughout the whole struggle, and I know he has been forever grateful for that unpopular act among the rest of the family. I'm not criticizing the other members of the family, but I will say, families sometimes exist through webs that resemble politics. What others may have viewed as a political strategy, we only saw as help that was desperately needed.

Something else I knew about Janet, but also heard through another....she was one of my Grandfather's favorite children. It was not widely known nor ever shoved in the faces of the other kids, but I had heard this before, and I witnessed an affection between them when others weren't looking. Sometimes, I had overheard doubting about this fact, but I think many misunderstood this favoritism. Grandpa only had one sister, but she died when she was a toddler. When Grandpa told me about little Garnet, he described her death and said "I sure did love that little girl." (Imagine that statement coming from a gruff, seasoned soldier.) With the similarity in name, and Janet being his first little girl, I think he was finally able to resolve the missing affections he had had to let go of so many years before Janet's birth. Plus, Janet was born during WWII, and with Grandpa away, fighting during her early years, any family member was doubly precious during those difficult years. They had a double-fold bond that was unique and quite precious.

So....about the cup of tea....
This past Christmas, I had an odd but fun moment with Aunt Janet. As I related earlier, Christmas is usually a chaotic day with pockets of family members roaming around and snatching any empty seat available. As my family had arrived early, we took up residence at the kitchen table - full of sweet goodies. Just as everyone was finishing up their breakfast, Janet came over to take the seat next to mine. We all continued to nibble even though we were stuffed. You know that feeling when everyone has just consumed a large meal, and we all finally slow down, enjoying the digestion stupor? I can remember that feeling, and was sitting there at the head of the table, with my Mom on one side of me, and Aunt Janet on the other side. I suddenly realized a cup of tea would be marvelous at that moment. So I hopped up, announced I was going to hunt down some mugs and make a cup of tea. My Mother expressed interest, and then Aunt Janet seconded, and said "Oh yes, I'll have one too!"

It took a little while to get everything together and heat them all in the microwave, but I finally got everyone's tea ready and to the table in front of them. We were passing around the sugar, and with spoon in hand, I asked Janet if she wanted any sugar. She said, "yes, and heap the spoon!"....so I heaped the spoon full of sugar....and she said "and another"....and I put in another....and she said "and another"....and my eyes got wide as she made me put in four heaping spoonfuls of sugar into that tiny mug. I asked, "are you sure?" And she laughed, and said "Oh yes, I like a little tea with my sugar!" Of course we all laughed, and then just sat there, drinking our delightful cups of tea, nibbling on some breakfast sweets, and just chatting some girl talk. Even at that moment, I reflected on how intimate that scene was....it was probably the most intimate moment we ever had....it was a wonderful memory, and I'm glad we all had time to make one last memory together on Christmas Day.

As for the particulars about Aunt Janet's life, I will leave much to the obituary link at the end of this post. I would also like to relate that she suffered from MS for many years and was one of the strongest women I knew. She was also a wonderful florist in Cincinnati for over 30 years. I can remember being one of the only girls at HS graduation with a bouquet of roses handed to them after the ceremony, which remains a special memory! Every time I walk into a flower shop, the sights and smells take me back to her flower shop on Cheviot: All About Flowers. Definitely a personal memory unfiltered by others. There are also several kids, grandkids, and former exchange students who could tell you many more great stories about this loving lady.

Janet Louise Daniels Millard: 1942-2014

I know she leaves a gap in the family that cannot be filled: Goodbye Aunt Janet, until we meet again...and give Grandpa a big kiss for me!

Sorry folks, I know this was a long one, but for me, writing is part of the healing process.

Chains Shall He Break...

Just over a month ago, I was searching for a family's records in Cumberland County Kentucky when I came across the following entry from Chesterfield County Virginia, dated 1790:

"Know all men by these present that I John Baker of Chesterfield County do believe that all men by nature are Equally free, and from a clear conviction of the Injustice & Criminality of depriving my fellow creatures of their natural rights, do hereby Emancipate or set free the following men, women and children, towit,

Bob & Daniel, December 25th......1790
Grace and Amy(?), December 25th......1790
Barbara......December 25th......1790
Tom, to go out, December 1793
Sally, to go out October 1796
Betty & Polly, to go out December 1802
Oliver, to go out November 1805
Indy, to go out September 1806
Hannah, to go out January 1807
(??), to go out February 1808
Peter, to go out December 1809
Amy, to go out March 1811

      I do hereby relinquish all rights, title, and claim to the said people after they (??) arrive at the dates above mentioned and not before; In certainty whereof I have herewith set my hand and seal this 9th day of June, 1790.
John Baker (seal)"

Without knowing anything about John Baker or the slaves he freed in 1790, I was instantly moved by this lone document hidden among the general deeds of Cumberland County Kentucky. Just reading the strong language used in this document brought some goosebumps and tears. Despite his obvious role as a slave-owner, he eventually felt strongly enough to boldly let this group of slaves go. I am in no way romanticizing his part in this process, but the document itself made me stop and think what freeing slaves might have been like in the late 18th century. In Virginia, slave-holders were the norm. We of course think of Jefferson who resided only a couple of counties over and whose own history of slave ownership is still controversial. In 1790, slavery was a hotly debated subject, but not yet within the realm of unmendable discourse.

I believe my goosebumps moment came from the strength of the language used, coupled with the dates in which he chose to give some of his slaves their freedom. Setting a number of slaves free could have been no small task in 1790, let alone filing such a proclamation with his local county officials, who were more than likely, his slave-holding neighbors. And it is true that he did not free them all at once - keeping some of them for ten more years. In a vulgar consideration, he was also choosing to disregard the cost associated with such an action. We are not accustomed to putting a price or value upon another human being, but they evaluated cost and value everyday - which is another testament to his strong feelings concerning the injustice of slavery. But.....the truly beautiful part of this document is that for the first batch set free, he picked Christmas Day to begin their new life!

He did not construct this document in December, choosing instead to plan ahead, having it drawn up in June of that year. After the document was in place, did he tell them in advance to prepare them for their freedom in December, or did he leave it as a surprise - a gift presented on Christmas Day? In either scenario, what must that first Christmas of freedom have been like for those five men and women? I think it is safe to say the celebration had to have been the most memorable of their lives. It has also occured to me, that perhaps the delay in freedom for the others could have been due to their age at the time. Were they under age? Was he keeping them on the plantation while letting their parents go - a way to keep the parents working while earning a small living - or was it too dangerous to set a large number of slaves free? If the locals were not receptive to such an idea....perhaps he was protecting them in a way?

These were just some of the questions that floated around my brain for awhile. But when I hear that extra verse in "O Holy Night", I will forever remember how important that verse truly is. Our world has not changed all that much since 1790. There are still places where slavery is accepted, and there are various forms of slavery in our own country. Despite what our own neighbors think, and what our pocket-book says, how much would we sacrifice to secure the freedom of another? Those are the questions we must ask ourselves each Christmas. He did not come so we might open tons of gifts, stuff ourselves and throw perfect glittery parties. He came to set all men free. Yes, it is a wonderfully joyous occasion and spending time with those we love is a perfect way to celebrate this amazing eternal gift - as long as we take some time to remember why we celebrate. I know there was some serious dancing going on in that cabin on December 25th, 1790! Let us take a moment and dance, just for Him, in grateful celebration for the freedom He bestowed upon all of us - for we were all slaves until that Holy Night so long ago! Merry Christmas Everyone!


"Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, and in His name all oppression shall cease!"

The Season's Greetings

As we all fall prey to the hustle and bustle of the Holidays, I wanted to stop and wish all of my readers a Merry Christmas, and bright, historically prosperous New Year! It is way too easy to let the spirit of Scrooge enter our lives as we tread through the family obstacle course that rears its head during this special time of year. But stand strong! Don't allow the Christmas meanies to steal your joy. Christmas holds different meanings for each of us, but if we slow down, even for a little bit, to reflect on the beauty of the season, the reason behind the season, and the special memories attached to this glorious season, we can bring the year to a restful and peaceful close. Besides, those tests and trials will be waiting for us on December 26th.....so let them go for a couple of days and purposefully embrace the Spirit of Love behind the Holiday we know as Christmas.

As a side note about the gold greeting you see above, this is the cover of a small paper photo frame. The photo inside is long gone, but the frame remained in the family photo collection. Due to the current controversy surrounding "Happy Holidays", "Merry Christmas" and "Season's Greetings", I thought this little historic piece from the earlier part of the 20th century was quite telling. For my family, Happy Holidays and Season's Greetings were just another way of saying "Merry Christmas". There was no exclusion intended and in fact, we used it (for generations) as a way to include a Happy New Year in the mix. So, in my book, none of the previous phrases are insulting to the Spirit of the Holiday. However, I have enjoyed the resurgence of Merry Christmas. I grew up in a city where the Menorah was right next to the Nativity Scene, and in my own family we put out a Menorah during Hanukkah as something of a symbol to honor the season, even though we do not fully celebrate this Holiday. I've always believed America to be the place that welcomed all religions and beliefs.....one that celebrated them and encouraged their celebration.....not one that silenced their celebration. I never want America to be a place of such restriction that a person is forbidden from wishing someone a Merry Christmas, etc. If you want to wish me a Happy Solstice, bring it! I will assume you are wishing me a happy time, a season of celebrating something good. The world can be such a dark and dismal place. We all need reasons and seasons to celebrate. Historically, religion has provided those seasons for us as a nation. From its inception to the present, our culture has been infused with a religious base. That base allowed for freedom to celebrate, not rules to silence the various celebrations.

So, as December 24th and 25th roles around.....Merry Christmas to all!

And well our Christian sires of old
Loved when the year its course had roll’d,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all his hospitable train.
Domestic and religious rite
Gave honour to the holy night;
On Christmas Eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas Eve the mass was sung:
That only night in all the year,
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donn’d her kirtle sheen;
The hall was dress’d with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry-men go,
To gather in the mistletoe.
Then open’d wide the Baron’s hall
To vassal, tenant, serf and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside
And Ceremony doff’d his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,
That night might village partner choose;
The Lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of ‘post and pair’.
All hail’d, with uncontroll’d delight,
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.

Excerpt from Marmion by Sir Walter Scott

CD 12/24/10

Advent Calendar - Grandma's Stocking

This one could almost qualify as a wordless post, because catching a glimpse of Grandma's special stocking says it all. However, I will give just a little background. This one is of Grandpa and Grandma Daniels, back before I was born, probably in the 1960s or so. When I found the photo, I loved the look captured between them on a busy Christmas morning - but as I took in their surroundings, I laughed out loud when I studied that fake fireplace behind them....yes, Grandma had put up her nylon pantyhose as her Christmas stocking that year! I'm not sure if it was meant to stretch and therefore hold more loot, or if it was a small protest, reminding the children that Mom deserved something from Santa too! The motive could be a little of both considering this is the same woman who painted hoof prints on her forehead in the 1980s when "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" was the hit song that year.

Christmas is a time of laughter - enjoy!

CD

12/18/10

Advent Calendar - Ma's Cookies

Earlier in the year I wrote a lengthy post about Ma's (Nellie Cox Beyersdoerfer) sugar cookies. They have been an absolute favorite and permanent Christmas tradition for at least four generations. The recipe is simple but when cooked to proper perfection (done on the bottom but taken out before browning), they are light, soft and chewy, with a wonderfully light nutmeg and Cinnamon essence. The picture I have included is their traditional round form, but the various forms they can take are endless. With this round form, we have dressed them up for Christmas with red and green sugar sprinkled on top. However, it really wouldn't be Christmas if we didn't use some of our old cookie cutters to make things more festive. When shapes are used, we have added the tradition of a light confectioner's sugar icing on top - which can be tinted to any color you prefer. Uber delicious!

I have included the recipe again below. The image of that cook-stained original clipping from Ma's kitchen is one of those wonderful pieces of heritage genealogy that I adore most of all. In fact, it is so precious to the family, that whenever anyone gets married, we make a color copy on photographic paper and then frame it to give to the brides. A surefire way to implement an old tradition into a new household!

In my previous post I included a lot about Nellie and my memories of her cookies on the kitchen table, but since this cookie tradition was started in her home, I've decided to include some photos we have of the home place which was torn down just a few years ago.
This precious photo, as faded as it is, has a caption on the back: Christmas 1936. This was taken on the front porch of Nellie and John's home. All of their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren grew up visiting Ma here, and sneaking more than one cookie during their visit. Nellie is the woman center front. Travelling to the left is her mother, Oleva Ellen Mockbee Cox, and the young woman on the far left, trying to hide, is one of the daughters (my Grandmother), Freida Beyersdoerfer Watts. This is the house a few years fore they razed it.....but no one has lived in it for years, and with no indoor bathroom facilities (there's another memory I have from childhood!), I'm not very surprised. It sat on a hill in northeastern Pendleton County Kentucky. Each time we make these cookies, we picture this place, and the warm, loving woman inside working to make her family welcome and comfortable.

Be sure to give these cookies a try! You'll be glad you did!

CD

12/8/10

Christmas at Laurel Court

A few years ago, my family and I were invited to a couple of Christmas parties held at my cousin's home in Cincinnati. Each party had an added purpose beyond Christmas (cousin's elopement reception and Uncle's retirement party) but each was scheduled very close to Christmas which meant we were fortunate enough to bask in the Christmas glory of Laurel Court.

This historic mansion on Cincinnati's west side (yes, I said WEST side) was completed in 1907 for paper manufacturer Peter G. Thomson. The inspiration for construction was Marie Antoinette's small chateau Le Petit Trianon at Versailles. Which, as you can imagine, produced a place unlike any other. The Rookwood tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms, gilded music room complete with teardrop chandelier, African rosewood paneled library along with various other details throughout the house remain true to it's gilded age origin. In my old Journeys Past website, I had a page dedicated to this historic gem, but the pictures were from the spring, and I have never shared my photos of what Christmas does to an already magnificent home - I have since put together some of the Christmas photos in a slide show for you at the end of this post.

The illustrious history of this house does not end with the first owner but travels down the Cincinnati timeline through various owners, from the Catholic Church (the Pope came for a visit and slept in the upper left bedroom over the library) to Buddy LaRosa. The last time it sold was in 1999 to my cousin and her husband (Larry and Judy Moyer - nee Williams, from the Pace side of the family). Actually, that is another interesting family memory. When the house went up for auction that year, my Grandmother and aunts stood for hours waiting in line to tour the house before it sold. It was such an amazing and historic landmark - we all knew of its existence but so few had actually been inside. The next day, after the auction, my family read the newspaper and realized it was our own cousin who had bought the place, which put an end to standing in line. From now on, we are welcomed with a hug through the kitchen! Judy's warm hospitality never changed after she bought such a grand house.
Judy and Larry have graciously given the home back to the community by opening it up for community gatherings, tours and weddings. Some events are even free to the public to embellish local traditions. They care for this house as their home, and welcome people with open arms. As a small family plug, Judy and Larry are offering Christmas tours this time of year....but as you can see, the experience is quite amazing.

The parties I remember fondly from just a few years ago created special moments that resonated historically. You knew the memories would last quite vividly and would be shared with future generations. The soft glowing atmosphere and twinkle of lights gave the feeling of being in a timeless place - truly encountering history as an enveloping sensory experience. The interesting thing about these parties is that even though family politics and disagreements were still rampant, the beauty and history of this house hypnotized each attendee into something akin to awed wonder. Which meant, every family member was kind to each other, and everyone walked around with loving, smiling faces.....a true Christmas miracle!

As the history surrounded us, I couldn't help but imagine the other parties, and Christmases past that had graced these rooms over the decades. Laurel Court is a national gem that was placed on the National Register of Historic homes in 1979. If you are ever in the area, and Judy has one of the tour options open, don't miss the opportunity to marvel at this architectural and historical masterpiece.

For more official information about the history of the house as well as tour/event planning information, visit their website: http://www.laurelcourt.com/

Now, for a small glimpse of Christmas at Laurel Court:

Merry Christmas!

CD 12/7/10

Advent Calendar - Santa Claus...or?

Growing up, I firmly believed in Santa Claus, at least until I was about 10. Santa Clause was awesome! He brought me great things, I got to visit him in the mall with cool reindeer....it was a pretty sweet relationship. Ironically, visiting Santa was one of my favorite things to do each year....it was a rather comforting visit.....and he was great about bringing me what I asked for. Once I grew out of the stage of believing, my brother was very small and we had to keep up the belief system just for him - which was extended for one more year when, as he was tottering on unbelief, we passed by someone in a Santa suit entering the front door of a neighbor's house on Christmas Eve - the very night Santa always came to our house!

As I helped maintain the Santa belief for my brother, I started paying more attention to how the whole system worked and the secret little joke that existed among the adults. This was about the same year that my Grandfather (Charles Daniels) began dressing up as Santa on Christmas morning when we opened presents at the Grandparents' house. Funny how he fit that so suit so very well......

Come to find out, Grandpa was the mall Santa Claus at Northgate Mall in the Colerain area of Cincinnati. Plus, he was also the Santa Claus at his Masonic Lodge each year for the annual family event. So, for several years, it was our own Grandfather's lap that we sat on while whispering our Christmas wishes.....no wonder Mom and Dad got it so right every year....Santa was on speed dial! The above photos were taken on my brother's first Christmas, which was still a year of belief for me, although I knew this one was Grandpa. The one below is from one of his Lodge gigs as Santa. From the look on my face, I knew it was him.

From those days onward, he was known as Santa or Mr. Christmas. It was his absolute favorite time of year, and it showed. From hardened soldier to lovable Santa, we were always so proud of him. When it was his time to leave us, he waited until very early Christmas morning, 2004, and hitched a ride upward in Santa's sleigh. He was 93.

Merry Christmas Grandpa! We miss you!

CD 12/6/10

Advent Calendar - Tree Phases

Our collective family memory of Christmas Trees is solely based on which phase of tree you are remembering at the time. I will demonstrate for you below, but we seemed to run through differing phases, all related to tree types. For years, my only memory of a Christmas Tree was based on those toilet brush trees from the 70s. The cousins on my Mom's side of the family all had real trees, but in order to keep with the trend on my Dad's side of the family in Cincinnati, we all had artificial trees.....the move to Kentucky ushered in a new phase - real trees.....and so the pattern went. Here are some examples of the decades of trees through our family's relatively short memory....we don't have any Christmas photos earlier than the 1940s.....sad.

This little gem is from the very early 1950s - Dad and two of his sisters. I cannot tell for certain, but this looks like a real tree to me....which would have been in Ohio....gasp! We have one earlier than this from 1945, but it is very faint, and the tree also looked like a real one, so this would be an early phase for the Daniels family - apparently, a real tree! That tinsel behind them reminds me of a childhood memory....for a few years during my own childhood, my Mother decided to throw that sprinkle tinsel on the tree, but that stopped after she got tired of cleaning it out of the litter box....eww.... I know, but we had a cat that loved to eat that stuff, and we figured that was not good for her!

This next tree was Grandma Daniels' next phase...the metallic or tinsel tree! This one is from the 1960s. We have several photos of this one, so it might have lasted close to a decade....but completely ushers in the remainder of Grandma's Christmases as only consisting of artificial trees.

Once the 1970s arrived, I could finally grace them with my presence, and this ushered in my Parents' phase of the toilet bowl brush tree as mentioned earlier. This sucker was around until my brother was born in the early 80s. Ah, and then the 1980s arrived, and this picture perfectly reflects the memories I have of this newer model - the soft plastic branch tree. So easy to put up - after we had to wait for Mother to meticulously clean the entire house of course - but as you can see, the weight of the ornaments was not kind to this one, and it progressively got more and more droopy as the years went by. I guess these years were my favorite. Both my brother and I were still kids, and in our little Cincinnati house, the Christmas atmosphere was perfectly achieved every year.

Our family moved to Kentucky around 1993 and from that year onward we had a real tree. Mainly because we moved to a farming community and with the influence of our neighbors who happened to be family, we fell in love with the scent and uniqueness of real trees. Our first year down here, we even had a cedar tree instead of a fir or pine. There is a memory I will always treasure: Grandpa Watts taking my brother, cousin and Mom into one of the back fields to cut down that cedar and haul it back on an old wooden sled. The cedars were quite painful to decorate, but what a wonderful smell and perfect for an old fashioned country Christmas! I know the ease of an artificial tree has tried to lure me away, but even my own trees have remained real over the years - just hooked on this tradition I guess.
And for one last memory that surrounds Christmas Trees: While in Cincinnati - and even now when we visit - it was customary to visit several amazing sites around town. One favorite tradition was the Krohn Conservatory and their Poinsettia Tree. Beautiful - and a tradition that carries on for the future generations.

Merry Christmas everyone - hope your tree is up!

CD

12/1/10

Oral History Promoted @Starbucks?

I will not divulge locations or calories consumed, but I happen to work in a library that has its own Starbucks attached to the backside. As my co-workers and I have been frequenting this establishment quite regularly lately due to that marvelous concoction, Peppermint Hot Chocolate, we took notice of this year's new Christmas slogan: Stories are Gifts - Share. Oral History is one of my side passions and I was thrilled to see this reminder to the masses that some of our most precious historical and cultural gifts are oral traditions and memories - but only if we share them! So, as the Holiday season encroaches upon us, and we attend gathering after gathering, try to get your family to share as many memories as possible! Even if you have no recording device, quickly jot things down as they were repeated as soon as you get home.....I did just that on one special Christmas back in 2002.

My Grandfather, the one seen in the previous post with all of his military medals, and seen below in his Christmas glory days back in the 80s, was 91 years old in 2002 and recently diagnosed with cancer. He was weak, but still strong in his own way, and this was the last Christmas we all spent at my Grandparents' house. The following Christmas we spent at my Aunt's and then on Christmas Day 2004, Grandpa made his final journey home at 93.

Grandpa had a few photo albums from his youth that I had scanned the previous year to have my own copies. However, when I scanned them and talked to him about them, he didn't seem interested at all in talking about the people in the album. If you asked about the Wars, that was a different story....he would proudly talk all day to anyone who would listen. It was odd to me that he would not talk about this side of his family and the many unidentified people in it, but I thought that to be a lost cause and kept the scans as my only tie to his background.

I have always felt that Christmas was a magical time of year. Regardless of how religious your beliefs about this season, you cannot deny that people act differently during Christmas. That Christmas in 2002 was a brief magical moment that allowed me to document some of our family's past.

As everyone had gone home and a few lingered upstairs talking to Grandma, I stayed downstairs with Grandpa in the family room just chit-chatting and photographing some of that old album again to practice reproduction with various light sources. He was watching my progress and when I brought it over to him to ask him about someone, he took the album and put it in his lap. I quietly pulled up a small chair and sat next to him as he walked me through the album, pointing out people he knew and telling me stories about his parents and extended family that none of us had ever heard before. I had no recording device save my own memory, but as soon as I got home, I wrote down every story he told me in his words as I remember him telling it. That type of memory recollection is not the best way to preserve important family stories, but beggars cannot be choosers, and since each of his little stories were short, my recollection abilities were able to retain everything until I could get home.

As magical as that memory is for me, I learned a few things: If you are forced to record a story from memory, write it down AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, the more time that elapses, the more details you lose - Never take an opportunity for granted, any family gathering is precious and could be the last one for a loved one in the room - Do not wait for a recording device as some relatives of advanced years can sense those things from a mile away, and balk at the idea. Besides, passing on family stories orally is a tradition as old as humanity itself - Don't knock the tried and true! One last tip: buy a nice quality journal to keep handy in case a relative starts telling a story that you cannot capture via device. I kept one during my years with both sets of Grandparents and I still use it when I hear a family story I want to make sure I remember.

So take Starbucks' advice and SHARE the gift of memories! Oh and BTW, their peppermint hot chocolate has been unanimously declared "Christmas in a cup" by the library ladies in my department.

C

11/16/10