“How Christmas Wishes have changed”

by

Gerry Niskern

A funny thing happened on the way to Christmas one year. We had a party.

We had  been giving this annual party for thirty some years and most of the people attending had been coming to our house to celebrate the season since we started.

That year I decided that we would test their knowledge of each other with a “guess who that was” game.

I phoned to ask each one to tell me the one special thing that they had wished Santa to bring when they were a kid. Don’t tell me if you received it or not, just something special that you remember asking Santa Clause to bring.

In most cases, before I even finished my question, these “depression babies” named an item they remember vividly yearning for and declared, “And I didn’t get it either!”

A couple of the stories tugged at your heart strings a little more than others.  A lot of farm families used to gather at the grandparent’s house and all the toys for the various cousins would be placed under the tree. One little guy about four woke up before dawn and went down stairs to see if Santa had come. Yep! There was a train set all set up around the tree; just what he had wished for. When he came down later with his parents, his cousins were playing with their new train set!

Another Oklahoma  girl asked every year for a Shirley Temple doll. Year after year she saw other cousins unwrapping Shirley Temple dolls!

A little boy from Texas asked for any kind of airplane. His mother managed to buy him a little balsa wood flyer propelled by a rubber band. The problem was the first time he launched it, the little plane flew down the hill right into the hog pen. They pounced on it thinking it was food and ground it into the mud.

A Glendale girl always yearned for a pair of roller skates. She skated on friend’s skates once or twice, but Santa never had enough money for a pair of skates for her.

One Tennessee girl asked for  a Dionne Quintuplet doll, but more than anything she yearned for some clothes that weren’t three sizes too big, so she could “grow into them”.

There were wishes for Monopoly games, BB guns bicycles and basketballs. One young fellow found a basketball in the attic and assumed he was receiving it for Christmas. He and his friends built a backboard and hoop getting all prepared. Imagine his shock when a neighbor came to retrieve her son’s basketball that his mother was hiding for her.

It kind of blows your mind when you realize all of today’s children have to do is visit the nearest Toy r Us to make their wishes for Christmas known. Then they leisurely stroll the aisles and click the hand set to record their choices that are easy for grandmas, aunts and other relatives to consult and purchase for them!

“Try to go COLD TURKEY for Thanksgiving?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Millions of kids will miss out on the fun over Thanksgiving weekend. Grouchy or misguided grownup spoilsports will put a damper on the day. When asked to “Please pass the potatoes”, they will send the dish along with a generous helping of politics.

Here’s a suggestion.  Tell your guests “We’re going “cold turkey” on politics today.” Remind them that the election is over, and today is the day to count their blessings. Appoint someone to be your political police. Give them authority to immediately banish from the table political junkies who mention the recent election.

Ask your guests to name something for which they are thankful. Tell everyone that we have the freedom to celebrate our traditions or change them, as we wish. Advise them to nurture and cherish that freedom. Mention that the pilgrims celebrated their freedom in their new country with the Indians who helped them survive their first winter. Remind the cooks that at the Pilgrim’s first Thanksgiving, Governor Bradford invited Chief Massasoit to share the settler’s first Thanksgiving feast. The chief brought ninety warriors with him and they stayed and celebrated for three days! Makes cooking for ten or fifteen seem easy, doesn’t it?

Actually, the first official Thanksgiving in the United States was proclaimed by Abraham Lincoln on October 3, l863, as the Civil War raged in this country. The thought of the Pilgrims and Indians once sitting together in harmony was comforting to this nation during that time of war.

Our ancestors started the tradition of sharing food and games with family and friends on the first Thanksgiving and I think you will agree, it’s up to all of us to keep and cherish those family customs. I promise you the investment of precious time and borrowed energy will set in motion a chain reaction of harmony for years to come. It’s a celebration of life with a group of people more precious than life itself.

When our kids and grandkids look back on thanksgiving, 2016, I hope they remember everything good about the day. They will remember the heavenly smell of the bird roasting in the oven, the taste of sweet potatoes and who really won the game, the guys or the girl’s team.

So, what do you say? Can you go “cold turkey” on Thanksgiving?

“Thanksgiving Day, Here in Arizona”

by

Gerry Niskern

Thanksgiving day, here in Arizona, is a day of traditions. It will be celebrated in many locations and the rituals will be as varied as the individual families.

Grandmothers and grandfathers will serve their children and grandchildren a fine old- fashioned turkey dinner, complete with dressing, gravy and homemade hot rolls that melt in your mouth. The carving knife is already sharpened and the table lines freshly laundered.

Some traditions, here in Arizona, will be started for the first time when the newlyweds decide to invite the clan to their home for barbecued turkey on the grill and a dip in their heated pool. No matter where they gather, some members of the family will argue politics, religion, and the latest courtroom trial. Everyone will over eat and some will drink too much.

Others will go to church to thank God for their many blessings. Whole families will give up their day to serve others in the many charity dining rooms, here in Arizona.

Native Americans on their reservations will gather together for mutton stew and fry bread. New immigrant families, like the one I saw shopping for a heavy roasting pan at the Goodwill store in my neighborhood, will buy their turkey and trimmings and try to prepare it the American way!

Other families will gather in hospital rooms or visit cemeteries, carrying pots of golden mums and try to remember why they are supposed to be thankful on this day.

Here in Arizona, people tired of formal affairs, will wrap their turkey up tightly, and put the potatoes, dressing and gravy in large thermoses and head out for a desert picnic. They will fly kites, ride go-carts and go rock hunting.

Lonely residents of nursing homes will be served their turkey on long tables decorated with papier-mache  turkeys and jaunty little pilgrim hats. They’ll be remembering other past Thanksgivings when children sat at their table.

Firefighters will cook their bird at the station. Policemen will grab a quick bite while on patrol. Emergency room personnel will eat their drumstick in the hospital cafeteria. Babies will be born and Mom and Dad will forget to eat, here in Arizona.

Some Mothers and Fathers will read to their children about the first Thanksgiving. They’ll tell them about the Pilgrim’s Thanksgiving when Governor  Bradford invited Chief Massosit to share their feast. The chief brought ninety men with him and they stayed for three days. The pilgrims celebrated their freedom in their new country with the Indians who helped them survive their first winter.

Maybe these same parents will ask their offspring to name the things they are thankful for. Then, hopefully, they’ll remind their families that there are Moms, Dads, kids, and even Grandparents who are hungry and homeless in Europe on this Thanksgiving day.

Today’s parents will tell the kids that we have the freedom to celebrate our traditions or change them, as we wish. They’ll remind them to nurture and cherish that freedom.

All these things will happen on Thanksgiving day, somewhere here in Arizona

“Homecoming”

By

Gerry Niskern

Veteran’s day is Friday. A day we honor our country’s war veterans with parades, speeches and memorials. In other words, a day for memories.  Many  people will remember not a whole army, but one boy, because that’s what most of our soldiers are when they leave home.

Before a young man knows fear, his mother does. It strikes her heart when she hears the words, “Mom, I’ve enlist

I was around ten when my dad and mom took me down to Union Station in Phoenix to see the train bringing in a very brave young man. Army infantryman, Sgt. Selvestre  Herrera, Arizona’s first living Congressional Medal of Honor winner.

The train slowed to a stop. We were pushed forward as the excited crowd surged toward the first car. I heard people shouting, “There he is.     I see him. I see him!” The band struck up another rousing march and the man in the red and white shirt had to scream “peanuts, popcorn” in order to be heard.

The conductor shouted for everyone to “please, stand back”.  He placed the extra step for the train passengers to step down, and then looked up with pride.

One step at a time, a soldier in full dress uniform backed down the steps. He was lifting one side of a wheel chair. Before the soldier holding the other side of the chair could reach the pavement, the occupant was grabbed by many anxious hands. They hoisted the young soldier atop their shoulders. “But Dad, Dad” I shouted “Why is….my voice was drowned out as the jubilant throng passed him along from man to man. I thought he looked like a volley ball bouncing on top the crowd.  Finally, they placed the returning hero on top the back of a red convertible, with a banner on the side reading, ‘Read Mullen Chevrolet”

The bright chariot started slowly up Fifth Avenue. Men, women and kids shouting  and waving American flags as they  scrambled to keep up with the car when it turned East on Washington. The driver picked up speed and suddenly I was separated from mom and dad. Phoenix was a small town then.  A kid  couldn’t become lost in the few short blocks to the designated uptown celebration site.  I was swept along with the throng towards Central Avenue beside the band.

The procession stopped in front of the Republic and Gazette building on north Central.  Some kind of temporary platform was draped with red, white and blue bunting.

The state senators and representatives were on the stage. The people cheered for the governor. They clapped for the mayor.

“On behalf of the people of Arizona, I’m proud and happy to welcome you home, Sargent  Hererra,” the governor shouted.

“This is indeed a glorious day” declared the mayor. “You must be very proud to be the first Congressional Medal of Honor winner from the State of Arizona. “

I pushed up close to the speaker’s stand trying to see the war hero. I ducked in front of some adults.  The legs of the young warrior’s pants  were carefully folded back above his knees with large shiny safety pins.

Finally, the speeches were finished and everyone on the platform jumped to their feet and clapped furiously. Then,  I couldn’t see Private Hererra anymore. He was hidden by the politicians.

NOTE: Sargent Herrera was not a citizen of the United States. He was brought from Mexico as a child by an uncle who raised him. He was married, with two small children when he enlisted in the U. S. Army in World War II.