Christmas Past

My fondest Christmas memories revolve around our activities in my neighborhood in New Orleans. My father was the Sergeant Major of the Army Corp of Engineers. Keeping New Orleans underwater and dry was their moto. His troops built and tended to the levees that kept the seawater out of the below sea level city.

Each year in December my dad's troops would gather donations of broken toys, gather scrap wood and metal, and convert their machine shop to a veritable Santa's Workshop. I learned to build toy cars from two stats of wood and two thread spools. A bolt ran through the wood sides and through the spindle hole in the spool. An artist in the group guided me as I painted it to look like a real car. I loved doing it. I loved being a part of the Army troops. I loved working with my dad.

On Christmas Eve, we would load up a deuce-and-a-half truck (2-1/2 ton - big truck) with the fruits of our labor. The back of the truck was completely filled with the handmade toys. Another truck carried an Army field kitchen.

We set up in a vacant lot that served as a baseball field for us kids most of the year. Several troops broke out musical instruments, guitars, stand-up bass, trumpets, trombone, and saxophones. They played Christmas songs as the other troops and growing crowd sang along. The lines mounted quickly as folks came with their children to collect the only presents the kids would receive and nourishing meals that amounted to a feast for each family.

Every military wife had opened their kitchens and run their ovens starting at oh-dark-thirty. Turkeys, hams, potatoes, yams, cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, and stuffing, mountains of stuffing were offered up to the families of surrounding blocks.

Our community celebrated an Eve of joy and camaraderie that brought uncharacteristic tears to my father's eyes. Mine too. The feeling was overwhelming. Emotions flowed unbounded. We celebrated each other and our common struggle with an unforgiving world.

If only I could bring that feeling back into Christmas.