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CHRISTMAS as a CHILD, by WALTER CROSSLEY

Walter Crossley of Damons Point , “THE STORY TELLER” . This was published in the Marshfield Mariner December 20, 1973.

“Christmas is fast approaching.  Energy shortages financial troubles, conservation, pollution and ecology may all enter the picture and create changes in what has become the accepted standard of the seasonal celebration. I feel assured , however, that in spite of all of these, there will be a Christmas. it may be a simpler, more family-type of holiday.
I’m thinking along this line, numerous Christmas events come to mind.  I cannot recall any complete holiday season, so the following account must be accepted as incidents involving many different years.
The weather was always with us but strangely enough, I can only recall one bad day, and that was recently. My wife and I went to Springfield to be with our daughter and her family and had a slushy snowstorm in which to drive home. The back seat of course was full of grandchildren coming to Marshfield for their school holiday.”

PERFECT CHRISTMAS PICTURE
“One of that I recall occurred many years ago. A snowstorm the day before Christmas,had left about 10” of new snow. The day itself was a perfect  Christmas picture, bright sun, dazzling white snow on every limb and bush. Fields and roads were without tracks.  The only traffic was an occasional  horse -drawn sleigh. A bitter cold day but without wind.
My Grandparents always exchanged gifts with James and Mary Magoun, whose  home was  about a mile away. My two cousins and I were sent on this errand , And I have never forgotten the beauty of the day. The blue sky and the white snow, the dark green of the pines  and the smoke from the chimneys going straight up to considerable heights.”

MY NOTE;   Today,  can you imagine sending your son and relative on this chore, and have a description such as Walters relayed back to you?

” One of the first signs of the holiday would occur about two weeks before with the annual shopping trip. this was usually  a day’s visit to Rockland. A walk to Hanover and a train from there took care of transportation. We could reach Rockland from Pembroke in about two hours. ”  MY NOTE; Today, about 15-20 minutes via auto.
” I cannot remember that stores or towns displayed any decorations. Quite a difference  from our present-day displays.”

SCHOOL PARTY
“The first real event was the school party. This was held the last day of school. No early closing then. Two of the older boys would be delegated  a day or so ahead to bring in a tree. This usually was a red cedar from Matt Groce’s pasture. It was set up in one corner and trimmed with school-made decorations.
We popped corn on the wood stove and strung the tree with cranberries on a long string, bright colored paper was cut an glued into circles attached to each other and draped around the tree. If the star had four or six points, if the angles wings were a bit lopsided, no one cared.
The teacher gave every student some gift. Each gave one to the teacher in return. I doubt if any one of these exceeded 5 or 10 cents in value.
Some of us learned recitations appropriate to the season and a few Christmas songs were practiced.
On the big day, mothers,aunts, neighbors, and even a few men came to school for the afternoon ceremonies.”

HOLIDAY at HOME
”At home we hung our stockings on the mantle the night before . A few small gifts on Christmas day carried us through the day. One almost always found an orange in the stocking. This was very likely to be the only one we saw all winter. We always had a Christmas tree  in one corner of the living room. My brother and I usually cut this in the woods , hemlock was our favorite species. This meant a trip to hemlock valley , and while there were  plenty of small trees, we were scorned the easy way and always took the top of the highest tree we could find .  Home-made decorations were used but no lights . Father would not allow candles, and electricity was many years in the future.
The tree was set up Christmas morning. Gifts were distributed in the late afternoon after Christmas dinner.
Farther raised his own chickens. Three or four roosters would be placed in a small pen  and fattened for a time. By Christmas they would be almost as big as a small turkey. We always had our own vegetables. Mother made a tremendous steamed plum pudding eaten plain or with whipped cream, this always finished  the meal.  We had aunts, uncles,cousins,grandparents and an in-law or two for dinner. The children were frequently banished to another room and a table of their own.”

AFTER DINNER
“After the dinner, with dishes washed, the men through with their after-dinner  smokes, the big moment would arrive. Someone would be given the honor of handling out the gifts. These were very simple compared to present days.
Parent received from their children but the presents were small or home-made.  I found that a nicely whittled fork stick was excellants for aunts and Grandma. These worked beautifully for taking the clothes out of the wash boilers.  One would last just about a year and costing nothing.  A plug of tobacco or a bandana did for the men.
We children could depend on one main gift from our parents, skates,  a sled, a cart.  I received a pair of skis and used them so many years I actually wore them out.
Many of our gifts were practical. What youngster today would be thrilled by a couple of sets of heavy long johns ?
Hand knit mittens were always welcome, last years were getting thin, and a new pair of overshoes were something to brag about. Simple games made their appearance , parcheesi, and dominoes were favorites. In my case, books were a favorite, a real good Christmas would net me eight or ten, probably none not costing more than a quarter, but to me  they were priceless, and could be read and reread for the rest of the winter.
Compared to today’s  holiday celebrations , ours were very simple. We celebrated for one day only and were back to normal the next day.
I  think the Christmas season brought families together and meant as much, in spite of our simple parties as the elaborate and long drawn-out holiday season of the present.”
“So, Merry Christmas to all.”

Walter Crossley, “the story teller” of Damons Point.

Copied from the ”  The Story behind the Story Teller” Walter Crossley , Damons Point, Marshfield Ma. This story was published in the Marshfield Mariner newspaper, December 20, 1973.

 

How I can relate to Walter’s Christmas’ , “Practical, simple things” , being a product of The Great Depression, and a youngster during WW ll.   Socks, overshoes, mittens.

W. Ray Freden, Seaview, 70 years. Down East 17 years.

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My Beach Buggy Days Part 3

Many weekends were spent on Duxbury Beach resulting in many, many stories. The first five years were with the old  1936 International, a two-wheel drive over-sand vehicle.  However, being a 1936 truck, it rode like a truck!  It was under-powered, hard to steer, had poor brakes, and a gear ratio not suited for off-road driving! So why in hell did I use it?  It was free. My Dad gave it to me and the cost to convert it was not much money…..a good thing, because I didn’t make much.  So with the above con’s, a short trip to Duxbury  Beach was in my favor.

In the early days I simply drove to and  over the half-mile wooden Powder Point Bridge….then made a right turn onto the “Back Trail” on  the Bay-side.

Powder Point Bridge, Duxbury, Mass. (upper L),  To Duxbury Beach…a right turn to High Pines, 1.7 mi.,  another 2 mi. to the Gurnet, now Plymouth. Then 2 mi’s to the Western Point of Saquish.


At a low tide, the beach side was the easiest route to your destination.  However, at a high tide, the back road was your only choice, even though the water filled many low areas.  It was a slow trip weaving in and out… trying to stay above the salt water.  Back then, there were dunes ten feet high …maybe more.  There were numerous coves within these dunes that would accommodate  4 or 5 rigs, so you could join your friends or they would join you.

In my early days, it was just my girlfriend and me.  Most of our friends then were single.
Interests varied from hiking, swimming,  camping, striped bass fishing and shell-fishing.  Beer drinking was a requirement!  Camping gear was primitive. Cooking was usually done over a campfire and campfire wood was scarce.
I was in the woodworking business so my scrap wood was always bagged up and dragged along using up much of the truck-bed space.
Any driftwood was a welcome addition.  If it contained any metal or copper, it made for pretty colors and the smell of salt water driftwood is like no other.

Compliments of Grace “Dee Dee” Dunn.

A little more than half way down the beach was a high point called High Pines that had a hunting camp on it.  It was nearly covered with wind blown sand dunes, along with beach plum bushes.   Poison ivy had a foothold there too. I understand a waterfowl hunter from Duxbury named Burt Hunt built or owned this camp as a duck hunting lodge in the 20’s & 30’s.  It was also used in my time,  and Google Earth shows that it’s still there, although no longer a shack!
A short distance south brought you to the Gurnet & Gurnet Point…a high ledge at the mouth of  Plymouth Harbor.  A lighthouse is at it’s highest point, a Coast Guard installation, numerous camps and year around homes are now there. The east and south sides are cliffs to the ocean. The west side is attached to Saquish beach, the head & west end with many camps within the sand dunes. It’s quite private and little room for visitors or camping.  It’s a beautiful spot with Plymouth, Kingston, & Duxbury Bay nearly  surrounding the spit.
Clark’s Island is just off-shore to the northwest. It’s an historic area with records of the Pilgrims being anchored nearby in November, 1620, waiting to explore the upland to establish a settlement.
The area mud flats are a shell-fishing mecca.  I have dug steamers, Quahogs ,  (cherrystones & littlenecks), razor clams & sea clams.

Getting back to the beach approaching the Gurnet, we set up camp so I could go skin-diving off the rocky ledge that runs out  from the Gurnet.  A spear gun always provided us with a flounder or tautog… a favorite fish to cook on the open fire.

  Returning from a catch.

A low tide was required to dive the rocks in search of lobsters.
Any catch of lobsters, plus a few steamers, made a happy day for a clam bake.
This was a good day….. 2 lobsters & 2 crabs.

We would dig a pit in the sand, line it with stones, then a fire was built within to get the rocks hot enough for cooking.  A pile of seaweed was placed over the hot rocks.  Then lobsters and corn were placed on top, followed by clams and seaweed.  A tarp, covered with sand, was placed over the whole pit.

Loading up the firewood


Covering the catch with rockweed

I always had some dread of the cooking results,

Done? Not done? Overdone?

I will admit, we never had a disaster.  If anything was over cooked, it was the littlenecks.  They have to be removed  from the heat when they pop open or they get rubbery!

Another happy day for all.

An hour’s wait & a few beers later,  we would  open the pit. That was  an exciting and rewarding  experience every time we had that opportunity.

“The Good Ole Days”.
Oh how I long for days like that again.
My girlfriend of 5 years and wife of 60 years (the same wonderful person), often reminisce of our days on the beach.

“The only B.S. I want is the ”Beach and Sunshine”.  And, once there, followed by more B.S.S., “Beer, Sunshine and the Surf”. 

“Life, the way it should be.”

Next; Our early days on Sandy Neck Beach, Barnstable Ma.

W. Ray Freden.  Marshfield Seaview ….70 years.

” Down East Maine”…..17 years.