Newspaper Page Text
December 22, 2021
Page 5A
ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN by Don Daniel
Remembering long-ago
country Christmases in Ga.
C hristmas has always been a very special time for me
and as the sands of time pour faster and faster, the
early Christmases of my childhood become even more
significant.
Up until my mid-20s, every Christmas was spent at “Ma-Mas
and Pa-Pas.” A big rambling house located in the very small town
of Harrison, Ga., was where I spent a good portion of my youth.
For a few years, I was the only grandchild, and maybe that’s what
made those early Christmases even more significant. The night
before Christmas became even more fun as eight more grand
children arrived on the scene ... and all to the joy of Ma-Ma and
Pa-Pa. The more people in the huge house seemed to make them
both even more proud of their four children.
Just like a wedding vow, it became an unwritten rule that Christ
mas Eve would always be spent in Harrison. There was always
enough sleeping room and the fire
places and wood bins would be stacked
high in anticipation of that special of all
nights.
And, in the kitchen, a turkey was
cooking and the homemade fruitcake
that Ma-Ma had cooked from scratch
was being nibbled on. Ma-Ma always
seemed to remember what her four
childrens favorite food was. Everybody
always brought food in anticipation of
Christmas Eve dinner.
Uncle Ben and Aunt Lila always
brought some type of wild game such
as duck or venison; Uncle Gordon
and Aunt Ginny always brought Uncle
Gordons favorite, ambrosia and coconut macaroons; Aunt Elmyra
and Uncle Billy always added a favorite touch, divinity and other
candies; my mother and dad added the finishing touches ... dress
ing, a ham, etc.
With Pa-Pa sitting at the head of the table, there was no doubt
that the good Lord had looked over the Jackson family.
Before the ban on fireworks, Christmas Eve was the one night
of controlled explosions and Uncle Ben was the expert. Roman
candles, firecrackers, rockets, sparklers were lighted from a fat
lightwood knot. Even after the ban on fireworks, with a nod from
Pa Pa, Uncle Ben was able to get the contraband and continue the
Christmas even tradition. The local, and one and only, police
man didn’t look the other way. He usually came and admired the
display.
Pa Pa always made a mysterious trip “out town” as the night
began to wear on. He returned almost secretly with a big box filled
with fruits, candy, nuts and other stocking staffers. He thought he
was fooling all of us young grandchildren, but we all knew he was
just helping out Santa Claus.
After all the fireworks, all of us would go to the living room
where the Christmas tree was. The tree was not small. The ceiling
of the living room was 12 feet and the beautiful tree, usually a pine
or cedar, was cut from a “secret” place on Pa Pa’s farm. The tree
filled one whole comer of the giant living room and the brightly
wrapped gifts spread out for six or eight feet around the base.
As the night wore on, the anticipation began to build. Christmas
carols were sung with Ma Ma playing the upright piano. Uncle
Billy and Aunt Elmyra were the last to get to Harrison. Uncle Billy
always kept his drug store open late for last-minute Christmas
shoppers.
Pa Pa, now settled back in his chair with grandchildren sitting
on the floor in front of his chair, told of his Christmases as a young
country boy... about the time Santa Claus pulled his toe and how
he always failed to get a glimpse of the jolly fat man no matter how
hard he tried. Instead of making us grandchildren sleepy, the sto
ries increased our anticipation of the morning to come and made
us want to go to bed early to make the morning come faster.
Around the fireplace, just before going to bed, we hung our
stockings ... long ones, short ones, fat ones, big ones, nine differ
ent ones.
All of us grandchildren left cookies for Santa Claus. It was not
until much later in my young life that I realized the adults (par
ents) were sitting in the living room munching Santa’s cookies
while we tossed and turned and listened for the jingle of sleigh
bells and movement on the roof.
After all the grandchildren were tacked away in our beds, with
visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads, as the story goes, our
parents closed the living room door to begin helping Santa Claus.
Every few minutes, it seemed, there was a parent tiptoeing out the
front or back door passing one of the almost sleeping children,
asking, “Are you asleep yet?” or commenting, “You know Santa
Claus won’t come until you are asleep.”
There was one unbreakable rule among us grandchildren: the
first one awake on Christmas morning was to wake the others
with the words, “Santa has come.”
As we all woke and got out of bed, and it was usually freezing,
we ran up the long hall to the living room door. Then there was a
wait that seemed like eternity until our parents were gathered with
us at the door. Then there was another wait until Ma Ma and Pa
Pa came and joined us at the door. During the wait we took tarns
looking through the keyhole trying to get a glimpse of Santa’s
surprises.
When the door to the living room was slowly opened, there
were squeals of delight as each of us tried calmly to rim to our
respective places in the living room where Santa had left his mark
for another Christmas.
It was not until later that morning that we grandchildren began
looking with concentration at what Santa had brought each other.
The mystery of Santa was something we did not question.
After the newness of Santa’s arrival began to wear off, it was time
for the gifts under the tree. As the oldest grandchild, it was my
duty to hand out the gifts. My mother always insisted that we I
wait until each gift was opened and admired before I handed out
another.
The roaring fire in the fireplace signaled the end of Christmas
morning at Ma Mas and Pa Pa’s. The wrapping paper and orange
peels always burned with a special sentiment as my Ma Ma, Pa
Pa, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins sat around the living room
savoring the last few moments of another Christmas at Ma Mas
and Pa Pa’s.
After a hearty breakfast of sausage, ham, grits, toast, coffee and
hot chocolate, the loading of Santa Claus’ gifts into the car was al
ways depressing. We left Ma Mas and Pa Pa’s usually before dinner
to go and visit with our other grandparents and parents.
Reverence was part of those early Christmases. The day that it
was, was never forgotten ... the day Christ was born.
Christmas has changed now. Ma Ma died first. Pa Pa always
wanted to go first. Even after Ma Mas death, we still went to Ma
Mas and Pa Pa’s for Christmas. Pa Pa wanted it that way.
Pa Pa’s gone now, too. But those early Christmases made a family
appreciate one another. The Jackson clan still gathers together ev
ery so often, and often the conversation is dotted with the phrase,
“Remember the Christmas at Ma Mas and Pa Pa’s when.....”
^Reporter
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Stop the needles on Weldon Rd.
To the Editor:
his was taken by my neighbor last week. We DO
NOT appreciate whoever is tossing their hypodermic
needles on the road after being used. This was a few
feet away from our house at the corner of Towaliga
Trail and Weldon Road. Our next door neighbors found one
across the street from their house as well. There are children
that live in this neighborhood that don’t need to see this! Please
take this filthy habit elsewhere!
Mitzi Holloway-Noon
Forsyth
Forsyth carolers bring Christmas joy
To the Editor:
he most wonderful and Holiest time of the
year is rapidly approaching, actually it’s
already here. This past Sunday evening, just
after dark, some members and their staff
from Forsyth United Methodist Church came and
parked their cars on the street in front of our house,
walked up our driveway and serenaded us with a
number of Christmas carols. We wish to thank them
and the Father God and His Son, Jesus Christ.
Patton and Virginia Smith
Forsyth
Bass responds to AR-15 Christmas letter
To the Editor:
have a rule not to reply to letters
to the editor written in response
to mine. After having read
Mr. Sims’ letter in last week’s
Reporter though, I now violate that
good rule.
Mr. Sims says that he does
not see anything in the
Reporter’s giving away an
AR-15 to a new subscriber
that links Christmas and
weapons. In my copy of the
Reporter’s Dec. 1 edition,
there is the picture of an
AR-15 beneath a nonsensical
“Will you have a MARry Christ
mas?” Beneath the AR-15 is a Santa
Claus with uplifted arms as if hold
ing the rifle. I find this is a strong
linking of Christmas and weapons
as the newspaper uses Santa Claus,
a secular symbol of Christmas,
and lamely plays upon a common
holiday greeting to promote its
subscription drive.
Mr. Sims criticizes the use of the
designation “assault rifle” as being
the term that gun control advocates
use. Regardless of their classifica
tion, AR-15s or similar weapons
were involved at Tree of Life
Synagogue in Pittsburgh, at
Sandy Hook, at Parkland in
Florida, at San Bernardino,
and at Las Vegas in 2017 with
its 58 casualties there alone.
These all strike me as assaults
and each involved the use of
AR-15 style weapons.
Mr. Sims quotes Jesus’ enigmatic
statement from Luke’s account
of the Last Supper to support his
argument. Tiffs is a blatant example
of using scriptures out of context. It
is true that the Gospel of Luke, the
only one of the synoptic gospels to
do so, has Jesus saying, “But now if
you have a purse, take it, and also a
bag; and if you don’t have a sword,
sell your cloak and buy one.” Why
did Jesus say that? A further read
ing of the gospel explains that buy
ing a sword was to be done to fulfill
the prophecy that “he was counted
among the lawless,” thus clearly as
sociating possession of a sword with
criminality.
According to these verses, Christ
knew that lffs executioners were
looking for just reason to charge
him with a crime, and he, prepared
to die, was intent on planting the
evidence for his execution.
In Christ’s word view, the base
and the lawless carried the sword.
During this holy season should we
not consider our contemporary
views on the ownership of deadly
weapons?
Ralph Bass
Forsyth
BASS
Benson 20-year sentence is wrong
To the Editor:
just listened to the news about
Allen Benson. I do not know
this man but do know that
people have been sentenced
for less years for killing some
one. He has lived with this act
for two years and if he has proven
to have changed, the sentence is
WRONG!
Kimberly A. Moore
Monroe County
Hwy. 41 military relic should be removed
To the Editor:
ith respect to Mar
tin Ursitti’s descrip
tion of an old drop
tank as a “proud
relic”, the military has sold mil
lions of these as surplus scrap over
the years. They have been used to
make homemade pontoon boats,
hot rods, and even canoes. Some
were even made out of paper, to
save aluminum.
The one on Hwy. 41 near the
rock quarry does not inspire
thoughts of military might, with
its stylistic horse painted on the
side. In fact, this thing (the ap
pearance of which was accurately
described in an early November
edition of the Reporter) is on
the public right-of-way, and not
being displayed with the honor it
deserves on private property. The
GDOT inspectors that are respon
sible for this stretch of Hwy. 41 are
obviously asleep at their job by not
insisting on its removal from the
right-of-way as a hazard.
I guess Bill could get around
this restriction of placing private
property on the right-of-way by
raising it up higher, cutting off its
nose, and putting a mailbox in the
end closest to the asphalt.
John Ricketson
South Monroe County
ON THE PORCH
Continued from 4A
after his tormenter. And then, my
friend said, the crowd noticed that the
beautiful violin music ostensibly played
by this talented traveling musician kept
on playing on the speaker. Whoops.
Con man indeed.
While this may seem like a Christ
mas story gone wrong, it’s actually the
perfect Christmas story. Let me explain.
I cannot speak for you, but I have found
there’s a little bit of con man in my heart
too. There’s a part of me that likes to
make others think I can do things I can
not do. There’s a part of me that doesn’t
mind profiting on false pretenses.
There’s a part of me that would rather
preen and pretend than work and earn.
Oh, we love to condemn the musical
gypsy for his fraud. But do we cheat
on our time card? Are we true to our
spouse and to our God? Have we ever
told a white lie? (and is there really a
white lie?)
If Christmas doesn’t seem like good
news, it’s probably because we haven’t
totally reckoned with what wrecks we
are morally. If were pretty good chaps,
then why would we need saving? Why
do we need Christmas?
Americans are frightfully naive about
human nature. I think the last two years
have exposed that. But the Bible is not.
For instance, that first Christmas, wise
men (we have no evidence there were
three) from the East went to Jerusalem
looking for the newborn King. Hearing
about it, King Herod was jealous of the
new King. After the Jewish priests told
Herod that this King would be born in
Bethlehem, he sent the wise men there.
God uses even His enemies to accom
plish His purposes. But Herod also told
them to send word back to him where
the new King was. He wanted to kill the
baby Jesus. But God warned them in
a dream not to return to Herod. Jesus’
time had not yet come. That would be
later. When Herod realized the wise
men skipped town on him, Herod went
on a murderous rampage. He slaugh
tered every baby boy under age 2 in and
around Bethlehem. This is human na
ture. This what people with power do.
We’ve seen people in power show
similar instincts since COVID.
Democrat governors have locked their
populations in their homes. People who
don’t want an experimental vaccine of
uncertain effects have been relegated to
second-class citizens. “Leaders” in the
good ole USA are trying to take away
their right to get healthcare, go out to
eat, fly in a plane or even visit relatives.
Meanwhile many of those same leaders
are scaring their populations about an
Omicron variant that’s really a mild
cold.
“For the unvaccinated you’re looking
at a winter of severe illness and death
for yourselves, your families and the
hospitals you may soon overwhelm,”
the White House Tweeted with its usual
fear, doom and gloom. A frightened
population is easy to control. Every hu
man being is infected with evil. And for
those in power that evil is magnified.
What’s the answer? How can we,
members of a wicked and sinful
humanity, ever hope to have peace and
happiness given our depravity?
Matthew records that the answer was
given to Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father,
that first Christmas: “But after he had
pondered these things, an angel of the
Lord appeared to him in a dream and
said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be
afraid to embrace Mary as your wife,
for the One conceived in her is from the
Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a Son,
and you are to give Him the name Jesus,
because He will save His people from
their sins.’”
Christmas is not toys, gifts or family.
It’s a person, the God-man, who came
to save you. All we have to do is realize
we need saving. Merry Christmas!