CHRISTMAS IN CALHOUN

At some point in my childhood dad started getting more paid vacation time. This meant two trips in one year sometimes. Well, once that I remember. After that year I think we started taking vacations that were waaaaay too long.

One December we headed to Calhoun for Christmas with Miss Forrest and Mr. Hardy. I don't remember which car we were in. I think it was the 56 Chevy, if not then we had just gotten a 62 Bel Aire. After the experience on the way there I find it hard to believe I don't have a vivid memory of the car. I have a vivid memory of the snow. Lots of snow.

We had planned our trip to arrive in Calhoun late on December 23. Best laid plans. I was so excited. Christmas and Gramma's house. I was also at the age where I was questioning Santa. Was he real? Did he really come down a chimney? We didn't have a chimney but Gramma did. I decided if Santa could find me in Kentucky he was real. This is the time of childhood when your list is so long you don't even remember what you asked for. I did. A Patty Playpal doll. And everything else worthy of a commercial on TV.

Somehow I had visions of Christmas at Gramma's being like a visit to Toyland. I expected the house to be dripping in decorations and garlands and a huge tree. I expected candy in every dish. I anticipated that the sheer number of gifts would be overwhelming and fill the entire house. Oh, this was going to be that Christmas. The best one ever.

I remember mom and dad not letting us watch them pack the trunk. There were gifts in there. They were all wrapped gifts. I peeked. I remember thinking how odd it was to be on vacation and having to take a coat and warm clothes. I was a summer vacation kid.

December 21st we headed east, to Gramma's house and to Christmas. I was about to burst. The drive was so long. I just wanted to be there at the house. The beautifully decorated, packed to the rafters with goodies house. HURRY. I will play the cow game all day, just hurry. We also by now played Hangman. My puzzle was always MISSISSIPPI. Singing with the radio was a must anytime there was one in range. The was Christmas time. We sang Christmas songs. It was just the best road trip.

Then a flake fell. A beautiful, heavy, white snowflake. This was too much to even hope for. SNOW! That is a Texas child's dream. I still have a rule about snow. STOP. WATCH. We get actual snow so rarely that when it snows I am six years old.

A snow flake. My mom turned around so excited, "we might have a white Christmas". That's Norman Rockwell. I never dared hope for snow too. On top of the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER! I tried not to get too excited, that leads to big disappointment. But the snow continued. It fell and fell and got heavier.

I believe they call it a white out.

This was when I learned that driving in snow will kill you. My mother assured us all it was true. It was a given. This much snow was not pretty it was a death trap. My dad of course thought: lots of snow we better drive as long and as far as we can. Memphis. We were going to make it to Memphis. Mother said her final prayers for herself and her children. I think she cared very little for dad's mortal soul at that point. We were going to die in a ditch or twisted horribly with many other cars on the road.

This wasn't very jolly. This was will vs. will. Dad always won these contests. Memphis here we come. We crawled along the road or highway. I prayed. Mother cried. Dad was of course focused on the conditions, the slick spots, steering out of the skids. Holy cow, we are gonna die. I was convinced too. Even Christmas was not worth this. Yes, it was...I just couldn't even think of Christmas, I was counting miles to Memphis. Too many.

Finally, Memphis city limits. It was dark. We were tired and hungry and thankful to see the first motel sign in the blizzard. No vacancy. No vacancy. No vacancy. Lots of people travel at Christmas. They stop in blizzards. We drove all over the city until we finally found the last room at the Inn. So very Holy Family.

I don't remember food. I am sure we ate something. I remember mom and dad arguing, discussing really, whether we were going home or to Calhoun. We were closer to Calhoun now. We had no Christmas at home. No tree. No decorations. No stuff. There was also the possibility that Christmas would be right here. Memphis Motel Christmas. No, not an option. We were going somewhere in the morning.

No, we weren't. In the morning there was 18 inches of snow and ice on the ground and it was still falling. All the way to Kentucky. ALL THE WAY. Mercy. Dad had a plan, all we needed were chains for the tires! That's it. Buy some chains, put them on the car we are all but there.

Chains on wheels. Odd concept. I was for it if they would get us to Christmas. Mother was still in, we are all gonna die, mode. Dad and brother went to find chains.

Chains are very popular like motel rooms in a blizzard. Dad and brother were gone forever. It was noon. Then later. Finally they arrived. They had the chains. They were not on the car. Mother and I had packed all the things we had removed from the car. We were ready. Dad said it would take a few minutes to get the chains on the tires.

My dad is an engineer. I had never seen anything confound him. Tire chains. They were his nemesis. They weren't going on the tires. They weren't staying on the tires. I wish now that we had a movie camera. I would so love to see the show now. Dad and brother trying to get those tires chained. It was now mid afternoon.

Tires and chains finally connected and didn't fall off. We were leaving. We weren't going very far. We just needed miles behind us. No chance of getting to Calhoun until Christmas Eve. That was cutting it a little too close for me. Mom worried about the snow. Dad worried about the car. Brother read. I worried about Christmas. Would this really be the year it didn't come?

Almost.