When I was a young girl, my stepfather Lou and his brother older brother, Bob, would take the entire family to a Christmas tree farm during the second week of December. We’d stumble out and climb into the truck, still half asleep and try to find a warm spot to catch a few more winks. It was a good thing that mom dressed us up like miniature lumberjacks because Lou loved to drive through the countryside with the windows of the truck rolled down. Mother rarely let me wear long pants but for this trip I’d be decked out in hand-me-down corduroys from one of my brothers and at least two sweaters under my cloth coat. We wore brown jersey work gloves instead of the beautiful mittens my mother made for us. For once I was allowed to be a grubby little tomboy.
Lou would pass the time singing Christmas carols at the top of his voice not caring if we didn’t join in at such an early hour. In between songs he would puff on a Dutch Master Corona cigar which filled the cab with a smoky blue haze. I’d huddle close to mom and we’d keep each other warm.
Our convoy of trucks would drive about an hour or more from town before the sun had even risen and stop at the same nursery the Hammonds had been visiting for years. The men would then spend the day cutting hundreds of trees that they would sell to bring in additional Christmas money for the families. Brothers Lou and Bob were both employed in the family business, Hammond Tree Service, which provided tree and landscaping services to homes and companies throughout Northern Kentucky, Southern Ohio and Eastern Indiana. Just like Paul Bunyan, Lou, Bob and the older boys would take their axes into the rows of trees, picking different sizes and shapes and bring them down with just a few hard swings. It was the responsibility of the younger boys to hold the twine as the men would wrap the trees to minimize their girth and then load a large truck with as much as it could hold. Halfway through the day Mom would spread out a lunch and pour cupfuls of soup and hot cocoa from thermoses. I spent most of my time trying to stay warm and out of the way. When I was older I helped cut the lower sections of pine branches from the trees so they could be sold as roping or made into wreathes. I loved the smell and the feel of the pine and didn’t mind the sap that stuck to my gloves and clothes.
Some years the fields would be covered in snow and we’d have time to play, throwing snowballs and making a snowman while the trees were being loaded. In rainy years, we’d just huddle in the truck when we weren’t needed in the field. One year was sunny, dry and crisp with a bitter wind that whistled through the trees. The cold bit through every layer we wore and the day seemed twice as long as years before.
For our labors, each of one of the children was given a small number of trees to sell and make Christmas money. Lou would set up and sell his trees at an empty lot on Monmouth Street in downtown Newport but we kids stayed close to home, selling our trees outside a local grocery, collecting $2 to $5 per tree. Being the smallest, I wasn’t included in the tree selling until I was six. At that time I worked with the boys holding twine to earn a few trees that were considered mine. It was one of my favorite times of the year. Most years we split into two groups and were stationed outside of Murphy’s, the Irish grocery at Overton and Third Street or at Park and Third, at Wetzel’s, the German grocer. Wetzel’s was the preferred stop, being on a corner which provided more drive-by traffic. My brothers would fight over who had to take me with them but I didn’t care. It was a family tradition and I was earning my very own money! We’d come home in the evening and mom would sit us down to cups of steaming cocoa and home baked gingerbread. She loved spending time in the kitchen trying new recipes and we were eager guinea pigs for her warm treats on cold days.
I love my family and they love me. I have wonderful friends and great bandmates. What else can a person ask for? Therefore this nasty cold can't define the year I enjoyed. So have a wonderful 2009 and remember to focus on the good stuff.
