The LuLac Edition #114, Dec. 20, 2006

COUNTDOWN TO

CHRISTMAS EDITION

INTRODUCTION

All my life I have been blessed with the talent to tell a story and put it down on paper. While the things I write will never win a huge literary prize, I'm quite satisfied with my abilities, when they are lauded and most especially when they are criticized. That's an advantage of being a writer.
Another part of being a wordsmith is that we get to judge our peers and sometimes compare our writing to another author's. Sometimes, not always you will hear a newspaper guy or an author say, "God, I wish I wrote that!" That's the case with the article "Santa A Better Man Than I". WRitten in the mid 80s by Ed Ackerman of the Sunday Dispatch, the column chronicles one small group's attempt to provide a wonderful Christmas for a poor family and the aftermath of that good deed. When you finish the artcle, you'll have mixed emotions and may not be able to come to an agreement of its content and conclusions. But as a fan of the written word, you may come away with my initial thought, "God, I wish I wrote that!"
Without further delay: Eddie Ackerman's "SANTA A BETTER MAN THAN I".

SANTA A BETTER MAN THAT I

ALTHOUGH HE HAD A HECTIC NIGHT OF PICTURE TAKING AHEAD OF HIM, KENNY FEENEY COULDN’T DRIVE AWAY JUST YET. HE WAITED A FEW MOMENTS LONGER WATCHING THE POOR CHILDREN PLAYING IN THE YARD ACROSS THE STREET FROM WHERE HE PARKED.

IT WAS BITTERLY COLD THAT DECEMBER AND THE KIDS SHIVERED AS THEY PLAYED. NO GLOVES. NO HATS. NO BOOTS. BADLY WORN COATS.

KEN SAT AND WATCHED. HE THOUGHT ABOUT THE WARMTH INSIDE HIS CAR. THE RICH RED VELOUR INTERIOR. THE CHRISTMAS HIS CHILDREN WERE GOING TO HAVE.

WHAT WERE THESE KIDS DOING PLAYING AROUND THAT ABANDONED HOUSE, HE THOUGHT? WHERE ARE THEIR PARENTS?

THEN THE DOOR OF THE RUN DOWN HOUSE OPENED SLIGHTLY AND A FRAIL WOMAN STUCK OUT HER HEAD CALLING THE CHILDREN INSIDE. IT WAS THEIR BEDTIME.

“GOD NO” THEY CAN’T LIVE IN THAT SHACK” KEN HEARD HIMSELF SAY AS HE SCANNED THE PAINTLESS WOODEN WALLS, THE PARTIALLY CAVED IN ROOF AND THE WINDOWS WITH CARDBOARD WHERE GLASS ONCE WAS.

AT THE SAME TIME KEN REALIZED THAT HE HAS SEEN THIS WOMAN BEFORE. HARDLY OLDER THAN HE, MAYBE EVEN YOUNGER, SHE LOOKED TWICE HER AGE. HER FACE WAS LINED AND WEARY LOOKING, THE KIND OF FACE THAT HAD LONG AGO FORGOTTEN HOW TO SMILE, HARDLY EVER HAVING REASON TO. SHE COULDN’T HAVE WEIGHED A HUNDRED POUNDS.

“SHE’S THE LADY FROM THE SALVATION ARMY” KEN THOUGHT AND RECALLED AN INCIDENT FROM A FEW DAYS EARLIER.

AS THE DISPATCH PHOTOGRAPHER, KEN FEENEY IS ASSIGNED TO TAKE PHOTOS OF THE FOOD DISTRIBUTION OF THE NEEDY RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS EACH YEAR. IT WAS DURING THIS ASSIGNMENT THAT HE GOT HIS FIRST GLIMPSE OF THIS POOR WOMAN AND HER FLOCK OF CHILDREN.

KEN NOTICED HER STRUGGLING TO CARRY THE HEAVY BOX OF FOOD THAT MEANT CHRISTMAS TO HER FAMILY. “CAN I CARRY THAT FOR YOU, M’AM” KEN ASKED FORGETTING THAT, AS USUAL AT CHRISTMAS, HE WAS BADLY PRESSED FOR TIME.

“THANK YOU” SHE SAID WITHOUT LOOKING UP,”THAT’S MY WAGON PARKED OUTSIDE”.

IN THE PARKING LOT, KEN SAW A BROKEN DOWN OLD FORD STATION WAGON. “LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE IN A JUNKYARD” HE THOUGHT AS HE HEADED FOR IT WITH THE BOX OF GROCERIES.

“NO NOT THERE”, SAID THE WOMAN, “OVER HERE”.

SHE WAS STANDING BY A RUSTY LITTLE RED WAGON, THE KIND KIDS PLAY WITH.

SOMEWHAT SHOCKED, MOSTLY EMBARRASSED, KEN QUIETLY PLACED THE BOX IN THE WAGON, AND THE WOMAN WALKED OFF WITH HER CHILDREN TRAILING BEHIND HER. KEN THOUGHT HE’D NEVER SEE HER AGAIN, BUT THERE SHE WAS, CALLING THOSE POOR LITTLE ANGELS INTO THAT RUN DOWN SHACK.

KEN WATCHED AS THEY DISAPPEARED INSIDE. AND HE KEPT LOOKING FOR A FEW MOMENTS LONGER. “I DON’T CARE WHAT IT TAKES” HE THOUGHT AS HE FINALLY PULLED AWAY, “THAT FAMILY IS GOING TO HAVE A CHRISTMAS”.

YOURS TRULY FIGURED INTO KEN’S PLANS AS DID THE ENTIRE DISPATCH STAFF AND OUR FAMILIES. AS IT TURNED OUT, THAT CHRISTMAS (1976) MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE BEST CHRISTMAS ANY OF US HAD.

KEN RELATED THE STORY TO ME AND THE TWO OF US PRESENTED IT TO THE REST OF OUR STAFF. IT WAS ONLY A COUPLE OF DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS BUT IT DIDN’T MATTER. WE ALL KICKED OURSELVES INTO HIGH GEAR. KEN’S ADOPTED FAMILY WAS INDEED GOING TO HAVE A CHRISTMAS. AND ALL OF OUR FAMILIES WERE GOING TO PLAY A ROLE.

MY MOM DUG OUT ALL OF THE TOYS SHE HAD BEEN SAVING FOR HER FUTURE GRANDCHILDREN (MOST WERE LIKE NEW) AND WRAPPED THEM UP FOR “KENNY’S KIDS”. SO DID EVERYONE ELSE AT THE DISPATCH. THOSE WHO HAD NO USED TOYS OFFERED TO CONTRIBUTE MONEY. PEOPLE WHO KNEW US AND GOT WIND OF WHAT WE WERE DOING DROPPED OFF TOYS AND MORE MONEY.

OUR OBJECTIVE WAS SIMPLE-TO GIVE ONE FAMILY THE TYPE OF CHRISTMAS OUR FAMILIES WERE USED TO HAVING. WE DIDN’T DREAM OF FEEDING AND CLOTHING EVERY POOR KID IN PITTSTON. “KENNY’S KIDS” WERE OUR ONLY CONCERN.

“TREAT THEM AS WE’D TREAT OUR OWN” WAS OUR MOTTO. SO EVERY GIFT WAS NEATLY WRAPPED WITH COLORFUL PAPER AND RIBBONS. THE USED TOYS WERE CLEANED UP TO LOOK LIKE NEW AND WE PUT BATTERIES IN TOYS THAT NEEDED THEM. WITH THE MONEY WE COLLECTED, WE BOUGHT NEW ONES.

KEN AND I TOOK THE CASH AND HEADED TO KRESGE’S ON CHRISTMAS EVE. WE GRABBED ANYTHING THAT CAUGHT OUR EYE, INCLUDING A PILE OF WARM STOCKING HATS AND MITTENS. WE EVEN PICKED UP COOKIES AND CANDY AND A WARM WOMAN’S ROBE-“MOM” NEEDED A GIFT TOO.

WE LOADED ALL THE GIFTS INTO BIG GREEN TRASH BAGS-WE HAD FOUR OR FIVE FULL ONES. ANY MONEY THAT WAS LEFT OVER, WE PUT INTO A CHRISTMAS CARD AND TAPED IT ON TOP OF ONE OF THE BAGS.

JUST AFTER DUSK ON CHRISTMAS EVE, KEN AND I MADE OUR RUN. WE PULLED UP IN FRONT OF THE OLD HOUSE AND POPPED OPEN THE TRUNK OF KENNY’S CAR. EACH OF US GRABBED A BAG AND PLACED IT ON THE PORCH. AS WE PUT THE LAST ONE DOWN, ONE OF THE CHILDREN HAPPENED TO PEEK OUT THROUGH THE TORN CURTAIN. SHE LET OUT A SQUEAL AND SUDDENLY THE DOOR FLEW OPEN AND LITTLE KIDS CAME DASHING OUT, TEARING OPEN THE BAGS.

KEN AND I DIDN’T HANG AROUND BUT AS WE WERE GETTING IN THE CAR, WE HEARD A SOUND THAT NEITHER OF US WILL EVER FORGET. SOMEONE ON THAT PORCH LET OUT THE LOUDEST “YAHOO” WE EVER HEARD.


AS HAPPY AS WE FELT THAT LAST CHRISTMAS, WE HAD TROUBLE GENERATING THE SAME ENTHUSIASM A YEAR LATER. SOMETIME IN NOVEMBER OF 1977, KEN AND I AGAIN TURNED OUR THOUGHTS TO THE LITTLE CHILDREN. BUT IT WASN’T THE SAME.

“WILL WE DO IT AGAIN?” KEN ASKED.

“I SUPPOSE SO. LET’S SEE WHAT EVERYONE ELSE THINKS.”

PERHAPS IT WAS THE LACK OF SPONTANIETY, BUT THE IDEA WHICH HAD BEEN EMBRACED WITH SUCH ENTHUSIASM THE YEAR BEFORE, NOW SEEMED LIKE A PAIN IN THE NECK TO EVERYONE. PEOPLE STILL GAVE A FEW DOLLARS, BUT IT WASN’T THE SAME.

THEN THE BOTTOM FELL OUT.

ABOUT A MONTH BEFORE CHRISTMAS, THE WOMAN WHOSE CHILDREN HAD MOVED KENNY SO, CALLED THE DISPATCH OFFICE. SHE DEDUCED THAT IT WAS WE WHO PLAYED SANTA CLAUS THE YEAR BEFORE AND SHE WAS CALLING US TO TELL US THE VARIOUS SIZES OF HER KIDS IN CASE WE WERE PLANNING TO PURCHASE ANY CLOTHING.

MOST OF THE STAFF HIT THE ROOF. “THE NERVE OF THAT INGRATE”.

THE PHONE CALL DID COME AS A SHOCK, BUT TO ME IT ONLY POINTED TO THE DESPERATE CONDITION OF THIS POOR FAMILY. WHEN YOU’VE GOT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, THERE ISN’T MUCH POINT IN HAVING PRIDE.

OTHERS DIDN’T SEE IT THAT WAY. “DON’T ASK ME FOR ANYTHING THIS YEAR. LAST YEAR I WAS GLAD TO GIVE, BUT NOW SHE’S CALLING TO PLACE AN ORDER…………..”

IT WASN’T THE SAME AT ALL.

I APPROACHED SOME FRIENDS IN THE PUBLIC WELFARE DEPARTMENT AND BECAME EVEN MORE DISMAYED. THEY KNEW THE FAMILY I WAS TALKING ABOUT-------ALL TOO WELL. “SHE’S GETTING EVERY KIND OF HANDOUT AVAILABLE” ONE SAID. “SHE’S A PROFESSIONAL WELFARE CASE. YOU DON’T KNOW THESE PEOPLE LIKE I DO.”

STILL, WE COULDN’T BACK OUT NOW. WORSE THAN NEVER HAVING A GREAT CHRISTMAS WOULD BE HAVING ONE ONCE AND THEN NOT AGAIN. WE OWED THESE LITTLE KIDS.

FORTUNATELY, OUR CHRISTMAS SPIRIT TOOK OVER. HEARTS MELTED, POCKETS OPENED. OUR FUND GREW AND WE WERE ON OUR WAY AGAIN.

THEN THE SECOND SHOE FELL. THE WOMAN CALLED BACK. “MY SISTER AND HER KIDS HAVE IT TOUGH TOO, SO I WANTED TO GIVE YOU THE SIZES OF HER KIDS TOO”.

SOME OF US STARTED TO FEEL FOOLISH. WHAT HAD WE STARTED?

IT WAS TOO LATE TO COLLECT MORE MONEY. IF WE WANTED TO GET TOYS FOR BOTH FAMILIES, WE’D HAVE TO DIVIDE THE MONEY WE HAD AND DO THE BEST WE COULD. SOMEHOW, WE MANAGED. THROUGH SOME SHREWD SHOPPING AND LAST MINUTE CONTRIBUTIONS, WE FILLED MORE BAGS THAN THE YEAR BEFORE AND MADE OUR CHRISTMAS EVE DELIVERIES TO BOTH HOUSES.

THIS TIME, WE FOUND NO ONE HOME. WE LEFT THE BAGS ON THE TWO PORCHES AND DROVE HOME. WHAT A DIFFERENCE A YEAR HAD MADE. THERE WASN’T EVEN A “YAHOO”. AND GOD, WE NEEDED A “YAHOO” THAT YEAR.

AFTER THE HOLIDAYS, I WENT BACK TO MY FRIEND IN PUBLIC WELFARE. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” HE SAID. “NEXT YEAR, THEY’LL CALL YOU AND GIVE YOU FIVE MORE FAMILIES. THEY’LL DRIVE YOU NUTS”.

“IS THIS HOW SANTA CLAUS STARTED?” I ASKED.

“THESE PEOPLE WOULD DRIVE SANTA CLAUS NUTS TOO” HE SAID. “THAT LADY GETS WELFARE CHECKS FOR ALL THOSE KIDS AND IT SEEMS LIKE THERE IS A NEW KID THERE EVERYTIME I GO OVER. SHE DOESN’T HAVE A HUSBAND…BUT THERE’S ALWAYS A MAN AROUND…A DIFFERENT ONE EACH TIME. SURE, IT’S A SHAME. YOU FEEL SORRY FOR THE KIDS. BUT WE DEAL WITH THIS STUFF EVERYDAY. THAT LADY THINKS I’M HER PERSONAL SERVANT. SHE CALLS ME WHEN A LIGHT BULB BURNS OUT AND IS MAD IF I DON’T RUN RIGHT OVER WITH A BULB”.

“WHAT SHOULD I DO?” I ASKED.

“DROP THE WHOLE THING” HE SAID, “DON’T BE A FOOL”.

I THOUGHT ABOUT HIS WORDS QUITE A BIT THAT WINTER. EVEN DROVE BY THE HOUSE A FEW TIMES. BUT WINTER BECAME SPRING AND I SOON FORGOT ABOUT “KENNY’S KIDS” AND ALL THAT HAPPENED THE TWO PREVIOUS CHRISTMASES.

NOVEMBER ROLLED AROUND QUICKLY AND AS USUAL ONE DAY THE PHONE RANG AT THE DISPATCH OFFICE. “IT’S THE LADY WITH THE KIDS” THE RECEPTIONIST SAID WITH THE CALLER ON HOLD.

“WHO?”

“YOU KNOW, THE LADY THAT WE GAVE THE CHRISTMAS STUFF TO. WHAT SHALL I TELL HER?”

“TELL HER”, I BEGAN AND THEN STOPPED. THROUGH THE WINDOW I COULD SEE THAT IT WAS GREY AND OVERCAST OUTSIDE. AN EARLY SEASON SNOW WAS IMMINIENT.

“TELL HER…..TELL HER THE GUY THAT USED TO DO THAT DOESN’T WORK HERE ANYMORE”.

I WASN’T LYING. THAT GUY WAS GONE FOREVER.

AND AROUND THIS TIME OF YEAR, I REALLY MISS HIM.