Upon on The House Top. . . Who the H**l Left the Door Open!

One of my favorite times of the year was Christmas and still is. I have always loved the Christmas lights it was something that could entertain me for hours. I always loved to see what people came up with for their lawns and how sometimes just a simple strand of lights across the house could speak more than you realized.

When I was about four, my father had a Chevy Chevelle convertible. It was red and had black rag top. I remember that much, but can't remember what year the Chevelle was. I just remember he would say get in the Chevelle. You have to understand my father called all the cars by their models, no cute names like most of us do now.

It was that time of year when Christmas was just around the corner and my father decided one night we should go out and look at lights.

My mother was for the ride until she found my father taking the top down on the car. It was way too cold for us to have the top down and she made that clear, but my father made it clear that's how we were going.

My mother still upset, bundled us kids up, but not while mumbling hateful things about my father in the process. She then grabbed a quilt off the bed and her purse.

My mother helped us into the back seat then placed the quilt over us. It was bitter cold, I can remember that and even with the quilt that my mother tucked around us tightly, didn't deter this bitter cold snap. My father let out a few choice words, which caught my mother's attention.

My mother was so upset, that when she took us to the car, she had forgotten to turn off the lights in the house. She didn't forget to lock it; she just forgot to turn off all the lights. My father, furious took it upon himself to get out of the car and go back into the house and turn off the lights.

I must tell you that in the old days Christmas lights were a hazard to leave on when nobody was home, that and gas heaters. They were never to be left on unless someone was home, especially Christmas lights. It wasn't unusual as a child to hear somebody's house caught fire because of these two items; who loved to start a fire when nobody was home.

They aren't designed like they are now, cool burning and if there is a snag with one, like for example; a bulb goes out the rest stay lit. Nope in the old days the lights were not cool burning and they were only to stay on long enough to enjoy before you turned them off fearing you'd catch the tree on fire and burn the house down. If a bulb went out, they all went out. The guessing game was endless.

Now my mother didn't only forget the tree lights, but the house lights as well. So my father cursing and calling her names got out of the car and went back into the house.

Meanwhile mama still angry at him was making sure me and my kid brother, Jason was bundled up. I remember mama threatening to kick our father's butt while stating the fact, us kids were going to be sick from a death of pneumonia.

Upon my father's quick return, he had to once again, made a scene about the lights being left on. He finally calmed down long enough to start the car and begin our little excursion.

De Leon, Texas is a small town and they use to celebrate Christmas every year. Meaning most of the folks around town had lights up of some sort and if there weren't lights on the house they had their tree in the front window for the world to see. The town itself was decorated with metal Christmas trees that had been wrapped in garland and big lights that hung onto the street lamps that lined the town. Some didn't work but I guess that is why they had the garland on them to make them pretty for the holiday season.

The store fronts of DeLeon, Texas were something to see. It became a competition among the store owners to decorate their store from top to bottom with Christmas cheer. I'm sure if you didn't do some sort of decorating it would reflect your Christmas sales.

However, this was the 70's and the spirit had reached its peak as my father drove us through town. Jason and I were so excited looking at lights, but also freezing to death in the process.

My mother still upset over the fact we were driving with the top down, also bundled up freezing cold; didn't find the spirit as my father did. Who could blame her for being upset? Taking two small children out in the cold in a convertible with the top down and only coats and a quilt, possibly the only thing preventing us from taking a trip to the hospital with pneumonia, my mother was mad. I knew in the next few days, beginning with that night, Vicks salve was going to be rubbed all over our chest. That menthol smell would linger on us for days thanks to my father.

My father drove us through town at least four times. It was too much to see in one drag through town, as they say, because of all the store fronts decorated up.

Smith's Department Store was not only lit up, but his mannequins were in the latest fashion and in the Christmas spirit as well. Stores like Higginbotham's, who owned nearly a city block, had several displays, while stores such as Ronald Variety, Dabney Hardware and Montgomery Ward graced us with all sorts of Christmas spirit with their window displays.

Homes in town were just as elaborate with the Christmas cheer. Humsinger's fuchsia home was lit with matching lights, while Dr. Eisenrich’s home was lit up with traditional clear lights and wreaths and bows. Al Stranser may have had a home that looked like Tara from Gone with the Wind, but at Christmas was covered tastefully in red lights and big wreaths. Houses on Reynosa Street, one of the most popular neighborhoods at the time in De Leon, were all a glow as they say. Some had Nativity scenes, while others had Santa's. Some had them just a big tree in their big windows. This was a sight for a child to see.

During this little excursion that took two hours my father thought a soda from Dairy Treat would be a good idea. Now, yes, we had Dairy Queen and we also had a Dairy Treat. My father preferred Dairy Treat. My mother was fuming by now and wasn't enjoying the lights. Well, she wasn't in the first place but by now she was really upset.

I have to say by this time Jason and I were just about frozen like Popsicles under the quilt in layers of clothes and coats. Plus we were getting extremely tired from all of the excitement. It would have been nice though if my parents hadn't needled each other every chance they got.

Finally, after miles of lights, dozens of store fronts, hundred of Christmas trees and Vegas like homes, my father said it was time to go home. Something my mother was more than over-joyed about and frankly us kids couldn't wait to get home to warm up. We weren't looking forward to the Vick's salve, but a nice warm house was sure a welcome.

Upon arrival of our small home, our father parked the car under the little Hermosa tree. Something bad was about to occur.

My father quickly noted that he could have sworn he turned off the lights in the house. I wish I could say that it was a pleasant way he said it, like for example, "Hey kids, I wonder if Santa came by when we weren't home." Instead it was, "What the h**L. Those lights aren't supposed to be on damn it!"

My father said other things as my mother got us kids out of the car. At this point I have to say, I now know the theory behind the lights being on, but at the time I just feared for Santa's life.

As we approached the door my father squawked out more profane words. I must explain at this point why the commotion went a few degrees higher with my father. You see the door never really shut well unless you slammed it good. Apparently, Santa forgot that too.

Now I can only paraphrase what my father said and I cut out the more colorful words that were used. My father said yelling by now, "GD, what the h**L, if I see that SOB, I'm going to kick his ever loving fat a**." I told you he cursed a lot.

To add insult to injury to my father, my mother says calmly, almost mocking him, still mad we went looking at lights with the top down said, "Well, were we robbed?"

My father snapped like a twig and said, "How the h**l would I know. I haven't gone in yet, woman!"

My father went into the house and made another loud squawking sound, which caused my mother to think we had been robbed. Then my father, once again paraphrasing, "That little f****r, turned on the heater and left it on! That SOB!"

By now my mother has rushed in with us kids relieved we hadn't been robbed. However, somebody had been there. That big man in the red suit had came to our house. Santa, had came while we were out.

The tree was lit and underneath it was full of all sorts of presents. Jason and I knew we had been a good girl and boy to receive such. Of course we ended up opening up presents that night not our usual Christmas morning, another mistake Santa made.

Years later I would learn what exactly happened from my grandma. This is what happened.

Well, poor Santa (grandpa) came into a dark house he unlocked the door turned, on the lights to find the tree, unfortunately poor Santa needed to go to the little boy's room. So he turned on lights as he traveled through the house, forgetting to turn them off as he returned. He went to the kitchen for a glass of water and forgot the kitchen lights not because he found cookies sitting on the table, even though he did find those and ate them. He forgot the lights because he realized the table and chair set had to be put together. He wanted to make sure everything looked good under the tree so he turned on the lights to the tree to make sure it was okay and once again forgot to turn them off. But all the while the house was cold his arthritis was acting up so he turned on the heater. As for the door, well the dang thing hadn't been shutting right, but poor Santa (grandpa) was unaware of this. So he shut the door not thinking twice of what he had done. He got into his green Mercury, where his elf (grandma) not thinking too and said to her, "Now when Roy and Deborah get the kids in, they won't turn on the lights in the living room but in the kids room. The kids will probably be knocked out anyway. So they will never see the tree until the next morning."

We were lucky we weren't robbed.


Books by Carla Landreth
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