The Ghosts of Christmas Past....part 1

As we begin to mature toward the winter of our life (you like that? Sounds better than getting old doesn’t it?) we start to cherish our memories more. Today I have such a time as that. Two days ago my grandfather of 91 yrs passed away. He was the last of that generation in my family. The reality is my generation is getting closer and closer to being the old white haired lady and man sitting on the porch in a woven seat high back rocker sipping coffee.

Thinking about my grandfather brought memories back about another grandparent who lived in Miami. My mother’s mother, she was a grand lady. More of a sophisticated woman with fiery red hair living in a two story home in what now is known as little Havana. I can still remember the Christmas of 1968 when we all piled into our 1960 Chevrolet Impala station wagon ( four boys, one girl and the parents was quite a large group in that wagon) with a HUGE pile of luggage on the roof with a tarp over it. In that time it never occurred to me why we took so much luggage but Christmas from mom and dad took a lot of space. Fighting, kicking and yelling we sailed down Hwy 98 toward grandmas. Not exactly over the river and through the woods, it was a long ride in that wagon because it was not cold that particular Christmas and there was no air conditioning in that day. In fact the further south we traveled the warmer it got and the more active we boys got. If I heard it once I heard it a hundred times. “Don’t make me stop this car and come back there”. We weren’t making him do anything; if he came back there it was on his head…and our BUTTS. Yup spare the rod and spoil the child was tattooed on his favorite belt.

Now you guys of AARP era remember back in those days there were no MP3 player, CD players or even cassette players. Nope, we had little reel to reel players. I had a bunch of tapes I recorded music from my record player on and laid down in the back floor board of that Chevy listening to it passing the time. We would stop on the way for little picnics of sandwiches and soft drinks mom had packed. It was great fun actually; there were many parks on Hwy 98 in that day and actually some pretty nice scenery. Of course we have lost that with high speed interstate travel. Of course who hasn’t crossed the Suwannee River without singing “♫ Way down ♫ upon the Suwannee River,♫ far far away ♫”. My wife and I still do that.

And do you guys still remember Hwy 41 and the Tamiami Trail? It was a long ride through the swamps of the Everglades with very deep ditches on both sides. Many times we came upon a tow truck pulling a car out of one of those deep ditches. Not a pretty sight but to kids, exciting to watch. I remember going through there during wild fires (which happened a lot even back then) and the smoke being so thick traffic was slow and all you could see was tail lights for miles and miles.

Well there was never a time of more excitement than when we came to the first signs of mass civilization….Miami. My grandmother lived on North West 2nd Street in what at that time was a very comfortable southern style coconut tree filled neighborhood. Her home had a small white cinder block wall in front with an elevated yard. Her home was a solid white wood off grade building with green trim and Florida windows (remember those with the multiple pains of glass?) and green awnings over every window. She had a small one bedroom apartment in the back she rented out. I can see her now as we piled out of that station wagon; she stepped out of the door and started down those green painted concrete steps to see her babies.

Inside her home was a vision from the past and present. Her Florida room was the first room you arrived in. Wicker furniture place elegantly around with bright multi colored topped tables. Her living room had a Victorian flare with sofa, chairs and lamps (of which I have in my living room right now). She had glass beads dangling down between the living room and hallway next to the stair case to the bedroom/storage area upstairs. Next to that stairway was an old curved phone table with a lamp and an old rotary dial phone. Through that hall was her elegant little dining room with mahogany and cherry table, chairs, china cabinet and server. There were wide blade wooden blinds throughout the home and a gentle breeze seemed to always pushing through them.

My favorite room was her kitchen. It was locked into the 50’s in style and so comfortable. You could smell the large bowl of fruit on the little white iron kitchen dinette. Next to it on the wall was black clock that looked like a cat with its tail wagging marking time. Her stove was a large double oven gas stove that required matches to light its top burners. On one of those burners was a tea kettle. Many many mornings my brothers and I got up before dawn to come to that kitchen and find grandma sitting at her little dinette with a cup of Folgers instant coffee in her hand dressed in her robe with what looked like a paper towel wrapped around her permanent with bobbie pins to protect it during sleep. That was her favorite and when we were in Miami... it was our favorite as well. She had those dainty china cups with dark green around the rim and gold on the top of the rim with very small handles. We always spooned in plenty of sugar and crème in our coffee (ok I still do...live with it). I would give anything to find a set of that china today just for the memories.
End of part 1