Beyond the Byline: Holiday celebrations then and now

PLYMOUTH — These next couple of weeks are sure to provide many great moments of celebration and sadness.

As we all prepare to gather with family and friends, we can’t help but remember past holidays and the people who are no longer here to celebrate with nus.

That is the sadness component.

At least it is for me.

So as I struggle to cope with the sadness component of the holidays, I choose to hop into the Way Back machine and re-visit those days when those people were here and the celebrations were genuine and filled with memories.

We all have these memories and we all struggle with the longing we have of days gone by when families gathered to celebrate Christmas and to worship together.

As Mary Hopkin sang:

“Those were the days, my friend

We thought they’d never end

We’d sing and dance forever and a day.”

Yes, those really were the days, my friends, but the reality is that they do end — well, they change, for sure. Holidays today are far from the holidays of my youth.

So as the Way Back Machine pulls up in front of 210 Reynolds St., I jump out and, yes, it is snowing. A blanket of snow is already on the ground and Christmas lights are shining throughout the neighborhood. You can see each Christmas tree ablaze with brightly colored lights, heirloom ornaments and a star or angel atop.

It’s Christmastime in my hometown.

You can smell the aroma of home-cooked meals emanating from each house. I see an apple pie or two cooling on a banister. Cars are parked up and down the street and you can hear Christmas carols being sung.

My mom and dad and I are getting into the car to head over the Carey Avenue Bridge to select our Christmas tree. It’s the 1960s and I again am part of the O’Boyle family’s annual trek to Hudacek’s Last Chance on Carey Avenue in Hanover Township.

Mom would insist on a Douglas fir because she said it lasted longer and the needles stayed on the tree longer. Once the tree was purchased, we returned home and placed it in a bucket of water — sometimes filled with anthracite coal to hold it in place.

Then the fun would begin.

My dad was an expert at stringing lights. His precise placement of the bulbs was a work of art — carefully hiding the wires and making sure there were plenty of lights to brighten the living room. And the tree would be positioned so it could be seen — make that admired — from neighbors walking by.

Once dad was finished with the lights, my mom and I would begin to hang the ornaments — each with their own special place to assure visitors would easily find them when they came over for the holidays.

This was a way of life back then. Neighbors were so familiar with one another that they knew which ornaments would be placed where on each other’s Christmas trees.

And we had such beautiful ornaments. Some were made of glass and they were decorated with varying scenes and/or sayings. Some had odd shapes, others were plain.

Each home’s tree was adorned with ornaments that were exclusive to each family. Nobody had a tree that was “artistic” — none were decorated with ornaments of one color, or with fancy ribbons flowing everywhere, or hand-crafted figures that cost $10 or more.

Some trees back in the day had popcorn strings. Many had strands of silvery icicles. Almost every tree had multi-colored lights. Some blinked, but not many — those were considered fancy. And we had angels or stars atop our trees. A Lionel train ran on a platform beneath. We would put little white pills in the locomotive’s smokestack and smoke would come out. A whistle would even sound.

We had villages on the platform. Some of the buildings were made by a company called Plasticville. We would make signs for the bank, the gas station, billboards and other businesses, naming them after businesses that operated on Main Street.

We would use a mirror for an ice-skating rink and spray snow from a can to create a real wintry scene. We had tunnels and fences and we even placed candy canes on the tree that we would hand out to visiting children who thought that was a big deal.

And off to the side, in a very special place, we would place our manger scene — the baby Jesus would appear on Christmas morning, not before.

And there was a small table or TV tray where we would place a dish of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa Claus. The cookies and milk were always gone, proving Santa really was there.

And then we would go to bed with the anticipation of what we would find under that glorious tree on Christmas morning.

Santa never disappointed. Christmas was always the best day of the year.

Looking back, I now realize the amount of work and effort that my parents and everybody’s parents put into making Christmas bright.

And I remember how everybody loved that time of year and how the spirit of giving really was practiced and enjoyed.

We welcomed company throughout the holidays. Yes, I remember gifts being given and received.

But the one thing I will never forget was the laughter — it was non-stop.

The holidays brought out that laughter and there was peace on Earth.

May these next two weeks bring all of you happiness and joy — and memories forever.