08 March 2017

Christmas, my dad, and JWS

One of my most memorable Christmas experiences was with my dad. He died when I was 18. He was in the Lion's Club as a charter member where we lived in Jackson, Tennessee. This club sponsored a Christmas paper sale every December to raise money to furnish food and toys to those in poverty. Families were selected and screened as to composition, special needs, number and sex of children, among other things. All bags were filled with canned goods, among which was a canned chicken or turkey. Everyone was going to have a fine Christmas dinner!

Some toys were bought, and a lot of acceptable used toys were refurbished by the local firemen in the weeks before Christmas. These were matched to age and sex of the kids in a family. Every kid got a toy.

My dad and I went very early on a Sunday morning to pick up our papers for the team. Early AM for an 8 year old on a Sunday was 5 AM. We met at my dad's office where he had a shot of whiskey for his team. The weather was always winter cold and this was for medicinal purposes. I never got a shot (it would stunt my growth??)

Then we took to the paper routes with the newspapers than were being sold as a donation to the Lion's drive. One learned at my age how some people reacted to an early morning doorbell. In another scene, it was your paper being delivered by a person with his hand out for a donation. 90 % of people knew it was coming anyway. A Christmas tradition. It worked well.

Once the funds were collected, the rest was in the hands of the Lion's Club and the firemen, the remainder went forward. It was always a done deal.

Then came Christmas Eve. A late day (not up at 5 AM but around noon). We all gathered downtown, loaded into big open trucks, and began the deliveries. 

This is where it gets personal! My dad was a believer in many ways, but most importantly, he believed that you got pleasure from what you gave to others. He would call  the police if you ignored his bill and could pay it, but he would give you your glasses, if you were broke.

We drove around on that Christmas Eve to areas that were "poor blacks and whites", and we delivered burlap bags with food and toys to specific addresses. We did this because my dad said "You will feel very good on Christmas morning because you helped us with this". He was absolutely correct. I hauled the bags, along with some of my other buddies on the trucks who did the deliveries.  

That done. I did see that we had done something good. I later learned how much.

JWS was a classmate. He was not a bad guy. His clothes were not so good as mine, but in the 5th grade, boys were not fashion plates, so who cared? We were classmates. At some level, I knew JWS was less well off financially than my family. Again, as a 5th grader, who the hell knew about financial statements?  He was a classmate and a friend.

So, on a given Christmas Eve,  I was on the truck that stopped at JWS's house. We dumped a big burlap bag full of food and toys off to a grownup who took it over to the front door. I think that I knew that we were on to JWS's street then. He had several siblings. In the bag was a year old WW II wooden rifle that I had given to the fireman to renovate. We were all still fighting WW II then, and I had moved onward to other fields of effort. The rifle looked good, and I had killed many bad guys with it.

We moved onward in the area with many more burlap bags that were well received. The day moved forward, and on Christmas Day, as expected, I was happy to have given"back". 

A ten day vacation went by, and I went back to class. The first day, JWS saw me in class. He said, "I knew when I saw that rifle, it was your rifle, and I knew you were my friend".

Boys my age did not ever cry. I did not then, but I do now. JWS now?? I know not after the 5th grade. I do know that he had some joy from my rifle, and my dad proved again that  people should do good things!


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