Shattered Dreams by Joe Kirtley (1927-2012)
When I was growing up in the early 1930’s, I lived for the day that Santa would come visit on Christmas Eve. He lived in my thoughts and was the reason for living out a dream of having a little extra in my life. We didn’t have much except a warm home to live in and good food to eat as it was the Depression years. My father amazed me with his ability to scratch out a living in the insurance business and he did it with a firm conviction that he would take care of his family first and foremost. With a fourth grade education, that man somehow helped us to survive. Nevertheless, I was a young kid with visions of the magic of that time of year but as I grew older, I began to have my doubts about Santa Claus. I suppose all children go through this phase in their lives, but somehow, I wanted to continue the myth because I felt if I didn’t, there would not be under my tree the anticipated gifts.
It was the year 1935. I was barely eight and I spied downtown what I truly wanted for Christmas. There was a small grocery store where Wilson & Muir Bank is now located and was known by the name of Clore and Dobbs. The gift I sought was a bow and arrow set with a large target consisting of a ferocious gorilla coming at me with his arms raised in a threatening motion. The arrows were rubber suction tipped and would stick to the target so that scores could be tabulated. I ran home from school and blurted out to my mother that I had found what I truly wanted for Christmas. I told her where I had seen it and I knew she had a way of communicating with Santa and felt that it would somehow appear on Christmas day under our tree and went about my afternoon play. As I so often did, I went to the kitchen to fix a peanut butter & jelly sandwich to tide me over until mother fixed supper, and while in the kitchen, I overheard my mother calling down to Mr. Dobbs to put the set on layaway. I didn’t understand the full implications because I wanted to still believe in Santa, and I figured that Mr. Dobbs was a go-between to let Santa know my wishes.
The next afternoon, I looked in the window at the store and was chagrined to see the set was gone. Almost tearfully, I ran home to tell mother and I listened to her allay my fears when she reassured me that Santa would get the message of what I wanted. I never dreamed that there could possibly be another one like it but I let her convince me that everything would work out. As I fixed my sandwich, I started putting two and two together and the first seed of doubt began to grow in my mind. I wanted to still believe but I began to reason and this is where I started to grow up. I put my feelings aside and waited impatiently for the big day to come. My brother Hugh and I slept upstairs in our attic and would pile the covers high in order to keep warm. One night, I heard some talking between my father and mother and I slipped downstairs and saw them hiding something in their bedroom. It was December 23 and the next day was when Santa would make his appearance. I went back up to my bed and felt ashamed that I had spied on them.
The next day on Christmas Eve, I stole into my parents’ bedroom and saw just the head of that gorilla sticking up behind their clothes in the closet. I knew that my wishes would be fulfilled but suddenly it dawned on me that I really didn’t have anything to anticipate that night. I almost was in tears as the realization reached my mind that maybe there was not a Santa.
That night, I went to bed and thought for an hour and finally drifted off to sleep. That morning I awoke and got dressed for church before I went downstairs. Dad had built up a roaring fire and there under the tree was my archery set. I expressed surprise and was grateful that I had received my heart’s desire, but Christmas was never again the same for me. Having my parents be Santa just didn’t fill the bill and from that moment, I entered the adult world.
Many Christmases have gone by since that fateful discovery and I have relived Santa with my own children and I feel that today’s child needs more mystery and anticipation in their youthful minds at this wonderful time of the year if the mind that creates our fantasies would continue to explore the unknown. It is what a simple Christmas should be about.