1977 Christmas Magic Courtesy of the Saxon Inn

By Eugene R. Capriotti

This tale is about a five year old girl's fear of spending the Christmas of 1977 in the western Pennsylvania town where both of her parents were born and raised. She is convinced that Santa Claus would not be able to find her on Christmas Eve if she were not right there in her Ohio home, the only home she had ever known. That meant that she would not get gifts for Christmas. Her father hatches a plan to eliminate her fear, a plan that meets with disaster. As a result, the girl loses faith in her father, no longer believing that he knows everything and can do anything. The father needs nothing short of a miracle to regain his daughter's faith in him. Magically, just two nights before Christmas Eve, in an isolated tavern near his boyhood home, just the right miracle to do the job awaits him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543913149

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Magic?

1977 Christmas Magic

Courtesy of the Saxon Inn

Monday, November 21: Useless Nuisances

Jean was miserable and at the heart of her misery was her brother Chris. In defense of Chris, he could hardly be accused of intentionally bringing distress to Jean because as Thanksgiving Day approached, he was only nine months old. On the other hand, in defense of Jean, she had occupied center stage until Chris came along. Not only had she been the star attraction for her parents, three older brothers and her family’s golden retriever, Deacon, she was also that for an army of relatives living on a short stretch of the Allegheny River Valley in Western Pennsylvania. With the arrival of Chris, her star had set somewhat while the newborn’s rose. Maybe she felt that in some ways The Queen is dead, long live the King.

By the way, Western Pennsylvanians always spell western with a capital w because to them the part of Pennsylvania west of the Alleghenies is an autonomous part of the United States of America with a distinct culture and not just the western part of Pennsylvania. To them Pittsburgh is the capital of Western Pennsylvania. This is the region where Jean’s mother, my wife, and I were born and raised.

Tomorrow, two days before Thanksgiving Day, would be Jean’s fifth birthday. In recent weeks, even though officially only four years old, she had put forth a sensible case for Chris being absolutely unnecessary. After all, she argued, the family already had three boys before they had finally received God’s great gift of a beautiful, darling little girl, that special girl her parents had wished for, dreamed of, and prayed for; She. Why for God’s sake, the family even had a dog! Who in the world needed Chris?

I must admit that when Carole had informed me that once again she was pregnant, I asked myself, Is another child really necessary? It was amazing that when I found out that number five was on its way my thoughts were almost precisely along the lines laid out by Jean. However, it is not so amazing that at present she is an attorney who excels in logical argument.

Of course when I first held the newborn Chris in my arms emotion smothered logic and I felt for the fifth time as if I had received the most precious gift ever. But, as time went on I came to understand how Jean could consider Chris to be a useless nuisance because in spite of myself and all that is holy, at times, I fleetingly thought the same of her. For Jean was a verbose creature who made her thoughts quite clear to all within earshot. She also made very sure that everyone in the family was fully informed of her clearly expressed thoughts. Consequently, as in all cases, the one she had built regarding Chris was repeated over and over and over ––- again. That is how an image of a useless (irritating as well) nuisance named Jean took form on occasion. Of course whenever such a non-Christian image appeared, it quickly dissipated on the application of prayer that reminded me how truly lovable Jean was.

Tuesday, November 22: A Pleasant Birthday, But

Thankfully, at her fifth birthday anniversary celebration party Jean’s recently acquired capacity to irritate was not utilized. She was quite happy with the showering of affection and gifts that she received. However, as Thanksgiving Day of 1977 appeared dead ahead, Jean’s woes centered on the existence of Chris were about to be amplified. We received calls from Carole’s mother and my mother and father asking to speak to Jean to wish her a happy birthday. In speaking to Carole, both mothers conveyed the same message. They noted that after Chris was born although they had had several opportunities to visit us at our home in Worthington on the northern boundary of Columbus, Ohio, that only two other relatives had visited him once and most had never seen him. They were indignant concerning the fact that we had not taken Chris to Western Pennsylvania a single time in the nine months since he was born so he might have been introduced to their families.

Our mothers were extra indignant that we were not taking the chance to come home for Thanksgiving, a most appropriate occasion for family gathering. What with tending to four older children and a dog, tending to an infant, job responsibilities and community involvement eating us alive, we had simply been unable to load up the Volkswagen bus and trek to the homeland since Chris was born. Petulance knows no pity and instead can produce grievance leading to demand. As if scripted (probably was) each mother suggested strongly that it would be a good idea if we were to spend the upcoming Christmas holidays back home, and in the vernacular, to make no bones about it!

Thursday, November 24: Thanksgiving Day Dreams & Nightmares

Thanksgiving Day finally arrived. There we were, all seven of us, Carole, John, Michael, Paul, Jean, Chris and I seated at the dining room table about which Deacon prowled constantly, on the lookout for scraps of food accidentally falling or being intentionally dropped to the floor. Carole sat at the end of the table closest to the kitchen of which she was supreme ruler. I sat at the other end. John (age 14) sat to my right and Jean to my left they being the Alpha and Omega or so we had thought before news of Chris’s arrival had arrived. Michael (age 11) sat to her right and Paul (age 10) to her left in a Right Bauer, Left Bauer fashion. Chris sat in a high chair nestled between Carole and Michael.

Both of Carole’s parents were of sturdy Slovak stock and our older boys had inherited physiques similar to those of the males in their families, especially those of the Severin clan to which her father belonged. John, Michael and Paul were each well built, athletic and hungry. The Thanksgiving feast was destined to be devoured with vigor as were meals served on any other day. No question about it, access to Carole’s great foods was the driving force for gathering around our dining room table. Importantly, however, dinner also provided us with the opportunity to not only talk about our individual activities but to also discuss issues that involved participation in activities as a family. At this particular dinner Carole and I had decided that the prime topic for discussion would be a family trip to Western Pennsylvania to spend the Christmas holidays with grandparents, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins be they first, second or third.

Discussion would have to come later. As soon as we were seated everyone became preoccupied with loading their plates with roasted turkey; mashed potatoes and stuffing bathed in gravy; buttered and salted golden yellow corn kernels; French style green beans seasoned with oregano, rosemary, salt, black pepper, mixed with almonds and then lightly fried in olive oil; candied (melted marshmallows) sweet potatoes; cranberry sauce and buttered hot rolls. When the feeding frenzy had subsided, Carole asked for everyone’s attention. She informed our children that their grandparents wanted very much for us to spend Christmas with them and the other relatives in Western Pennsylvania. There was immediate response from John, Michael and Paul in the form of boisterous hooting and hollering.

And why not? No place in the world offered them so much in the way of entertainment and top-flight feasting. They knew that parties, sledding, ice skating, movies, overnights and just plain bumming around with this relative or that while out of reach of close parental supervision more than likely awaited them. Their adult relatives, especially Carole’s mother, Josephine (her father Joseph had passed away a year earlier), and my mother, Jennie ( not so much my father, Raymond), were extremely lenient with the boys and more often than not (even my father) met their requests in the loving and affectionate affirmative.

And then there were the Steelers, the football giants of the universe in the 1970s! What better place to be as the season played out with playoff pairings taking shape than where it seemed that the only clothes people owned were black and gold stamping them unmistakably as citizens of The Steeler Nation? Over the years the boys had been deluged with Christmas and birthday gifts from their Western Pennsylvania relatives, gifts consisting of Steeler jackets, Steeler hats, Steeler gloves, Steeler pajamas and Steeler you name its. They too were citizens of The Steeler Nation and had no fear of looking out of place even while sleeping.

At dinner, Carole also expressed delight with the idea of spending the Christmas holidays back home. When we had gone to bed on the night of Jean’s birthday she told me that right now doing what our mothers’ proposed would be like a premature visit to heaven. The previous year had been hard on Carole to say the least. Attending to the needs of an infant is difficult on its own. Adding to that the job of keeping three robust boys and the demanding Jean and Deacon in line would make the chance for relief even if only for a week or two enough to excite anyone. By being on holiday back home, she would be provided with a great deal of freedom. There would always be some trusted sole to tend the children while she spent time with her mother, my mother, her sisters, adult