by Frank Galgay
The Dec. 26 edition carried season’s greetings from Magistrate W. J. Scott who mentioned that “a year ago (how short it seems) we ventured to suggest ‘more light, ’ and looking back and viewing the dazzle of electricity at Corner Brook and beyond we all are simply delighted and happy looking forward.”
Christmas had been a day off for the men of the railway who lived at Humbermouth. A notice carried in the Jan. 2 edition of the Western Star expressed the thanks of about 10 engine crews to “Mr. Cobb, Superintendent, and Mr. Chafe, Chief Dispatcher, for allowing so many of them to stay at their homes.”
New Year’s Day 1924 was ushered in with the blowing of steam whistles, the chiming of bells and fireworks, the paper reported. There was a special midnight service at the Methodist Church and on New Year’s Day between one and two o’clock in the afternoon there was a lightning and thunder storm. From New Year’s Day came a change in weather with daily snowstorms for the week following. By Jan. 5 there was a coating of ice formed on Humber Arm “but it is not fit for anyone to cross over.” The storms had thrown the train schedules off.
Christmas and New Year’s 1923-24 had come and gone in a pleasant fashion and now the residents of the new community were faced with the rigors of a typical western Newfoundland winter.
Pioneer Corner Brook Couple Recalls the Fun of Christmas in Early Days
by Colin Burke
EARLY CHRISTMASES IN CORNER Brook were practically community get-togethers and a lot of fun, according to William Herdman of 2 Hammond Drive, who at 85 is one of the city’s oldest residents.
Mr. Herdman, who came to Corner Brook Jan. 10, 1923, recalled for the Western Star this year his first Christmas in the city after moving with Mrs. Herdman to his new house here. They came to Corner Brook intending to stay two years.
Some of the first houses in the townsite had been completed in September of 1924, and mill company officials—Mr. Herdman, who retired as secretary-treasurer of Bowaters, was the chief accountant there from the Glynmill Inn, where they had been staying.
“The officials took the houses on Park Street, and we occupied a house behind the Majestic Theatre on East Valley Road.”
The water and sewage services had been installed, with “very deep” digging, “and the streets were just mounds of snow, ” Mr. Herdman said.
“At Christmas, all the residents of the Glynmill Inn, and those who had moved out to the houses, decided they would hold a big Christmas tree party in the lobby of the Glynmill Inn.
“Everybody’s name was placed into a cardboard box and everybody drew out a name. They had to provide a present for the person whose name was on the drawing which they had taken out. They also had to write a verse about that person.
“Before midnight, everybody gathered around the Christmas tree and sang Christmas carols, and then Santa Claus appeared”—complete with pillow in an appropriate place to enhance the overall impression.
“Santa Claus got busy and distributed the Christmas presents”— assisted by various helpers. “It was a great Christmas Eve.”
About noon on Christmas day, “all the parents and their children”— there were not too many parents here in those days—assembled again at the Glynmill, and again “gathered around the piano and sang Christmas carols.”
“Then Santa Claus appeared again, and most of those present, especially the kiddies followed Santa Claus singing ‘Jingle Bells.’” They paraded up the emergency stairs, through the dormitory in the top staff house then—and down the main staircase in the Christmas tree, where everybody was presented with a chocolate bar.
Then came the Christmas dinner— “everything from soup to nuts”— with roast beef, turkey, and goose, “and no shortage of wines.”
“It was a lively town in construction days, you know, ” Mr. Herdman remarked. “They were a wild crowd and the hotel was the centre of all company social gatherings.”
A big dinner was also held at the Inn on New Year’s Eve. The same procedure took place the following year, but that year a party of 15 or 16 got a sleigh and horses from the transportation department and a portable organ was placed in the sleigh. A group who had been practicing Christmas carols for the past week went around with a red hurricane lantern to the houses in Cobb Lane and Marcelle Avenue, “and most of them passed out on the journey.”
“And to the best of my recollection it was a marvellous time, ” said Mr. Herdman. “It was a real Christmas.”
And the Christmas atmosphere was increased for the children, and following Christmases by grownups who assisted Santa, as “some of them would run down to the parents and find out in advance what the children were getting. So that when Santa met the child on rounds through the community, he would address him by name and tell the child what he was going to bring.”
This made Christmas very real for the children, Mr. Herdman said.
Mrs. Herdman, who came to Corner Brook with her husband, says there were only 10 children here when women organized the first Christmas party for them. The next year there were about 100. The following year, when a party was organized by a local store, there were 1,000 attending— but some of these came from communities as far away as Bonne Bay.
And the fourth year, there were too many to have a party for them all.
These first Christmas get-togethers were chiefly for company officials. There were 5,000 or 6,000 construction workers here at the time, who lived in bivouacs in the summer and bunkhouses in the winter, Mr. Herdman said.
“But at Christmas and New Year, most of them, being baymen, made a beeline for home.”
Christmas in the early 1900s (Grand Falls) “We had a whale of a time”
Author Unknown
YOU’VE GOT TO WONDER if we aren’t missing out on a lot of fun at Christmas time these days. Take the ancient custom of jannying, for instance; what with television, cars, telephones, restaurants, movies, and a much busier and faster way of life, that old tradition of a slower and less pressured way of life has gone almost out of existence.
However, the custom of jannying has certainly not gone out of the memory of many of the pioneer citizens of Grand Falls—it is probably the best remembered highlight of Christmas in the early days of this town.
Ask Mrs. Heber Hiscock on Junction Road, for example: she came to Grand Falls in 1907 at the age of five. For her, memories of Christmas in those first years of the town center around that activity of visiting different houses and being treated to overflowing quantities of sweet syrup, Christmas cake, fruit, nuts, raisins, and so on. As she describes it, “We used to have a whale of a time.”
“The jannying would get going, usually, after Christmas, and would continue until about January 6—old Christmas, ” she recalled in an interview. “There was very little else to do, of course. You just went visiting all our friends, but just the same, when we came home from jannying we would never want to see another glass of syrup or another piece of cake again. We’d always eat more than our fill. But when the next night came, sure enough we’d be out again, raring to go for another round of the house.”
Of course, jannying did not involve just eating and drinking—you had to compare Christmas trees with your young friends, to see who owned the biggest and the best-decorated.
And then there was the fun of simply getting there—plowing through the snow on your way around the streets, leaping and plunging through the drifts, sliding down the hills, and getting soaked to the skin in the process.
“Children have not changed very much over the years, ” Mrs. Hiscock noted. “I remember my brother and a crowd of his friends would gang up and be ready with the snowballs when the girls returned home from jannying. We’d have to run the gauntlet to get indoors.”
In Mrs. Hiscock’s opinion, the children in 1911 and 1912 were no different from the children of today—they only had fewer gifts in those times.
“Human nature doesn’t change. Just the way of life changes—it was a much simpler way of life in those times. You got
a lot less at Christmas than children do today, but then you were satisfied with a lot less. When I was a young girl we had little at Christmas, but we still enjoyed it very much. We’d never go to sleep the night before, for we were too excited about the day ahead. But I think that if kids today woke up on Christmas morning to what we woke up to, they would be disappointed.”
Although the families then had little, Mrs. Hiscock declared that she cannot remember a sad Christmas. As simple as that time may have been in comparison with today, she stated that there was always something to do, something to make the happiness and brightness of Christmas as real as it could be.
Mrs. Hiscock’s father, John Knight, who worked as a foreman under Tom Brown, the carpenter responsible for building most of Grand Falls, would usually cut and bring in the Christmas tree on the day before Christmas. Often the parents decorated it themselves, but the children also got their chance to participate in the fun.
“We decorated the tree with whatever we had on hand—the decorations were simple, but the trees were pretty all the same. We’d string popcorn together, cranberries, fir and spruce cones; we’d cut out wreaths and angels and things like that from Christmas cards, and string them up with colored wool. There were always plenty of decorations, if you used your imagination. Some people would put up candles in small candleholders on their tree, but we never did—it was too dangerous.”
The house, too, never lacked decoration. Cones of fir and spruce ribbon would be hung, colored ribbon would be strung in many places, and of course wreaths of spruce boughs were easy to make and provided excellent decorative pieces.
“We had to make do with what we had, but it was enough—we had such marvellous Christmases.”
There always seemed to be plenty of entertainment at Christmas time in the early 1900s as well. Mrs. Hiscock recalls the tremendous parties for the school children the A. N. D. Company would hold, brimming with candy and gifts, and never without a visit from jolly old St. Nick. The Salvation Army would hold a Christmas concert on Christmas night, and again Santa would always be there. “It seems a bit late, I know, but we used to hold it anyway. And it was always quite a concert.”
The Salvation Army provided many a moment of music well remembered for Mrs. Hiscock, as well, appearing on the streets without fail unless it was too stormy. “The band was like a group of Pied Pipers. A swarm of youngsters would always follow them around, wherever they went. As soon as the people heard them playing, the doors would fly open all along the street, and people would be ready with their donations even before the collectors got to their houses.”
Mrs. Hiscock recalls Monsignor Finn making generous contributions to the band every time they played in front of his residence. “I really liked Monsignor Finn—everybody did. He would always come out to hear the band, no matter what the weather, and talk to us, give us his donation. He was a real gentleman, and a very gentle man.”
On Christmas day itself the Knight children would wake to find their stockings bulging with fruit, nuts, and candy, and perhaps a small toy for the younger children. Gifts usually were toys for children under 11 or 12, and for those over that age the presents were of a practical nature in most cases.
“Christmas is different in every household, I think, ” Mrs. Hiscock noted. “It depends on what customs your parents were used to. For example—our father would read us the Christmas story from the Bible, every Christmas morning. We always had a goose for Christmas dinner, too, while we knew a lot of people who had turkey, and quite a few who had venison, or caribou.”
For Mrs. Hiscock, Christmas in the early Grand Falls was the big highlight of the year: “We really enjoyed ourselves. We appreciated everything we had no matter what it was. Christmas time was the time of the year. There was nothing during the year to match the fun we had, or the gifts we got—not even birthdays measured up.”
The town has changed drastically, the province has changed greatly, the entire lifestyle has changed from the early 1900s. But as Mrs. Hiscock was quick to point out, people themselves have not changed that much—we may not do much jannying, but we still, as then, “have a whale of a time.”
Alcohol-free for 29 Years, Man Recounts How AA Saved His Life
by Gary Kean
IT WAS CHRISTMAS 1982 and there sat Tommy at the dinner table with his wife, six children and his mother.
Weeks earlier, his fourth-oldest daughter had asked him not to ruin Christmas for everyone again this year by getting drunk.
Tommy had promised her he would not have a drink. Not until after dinner, at least. But there he sat at the dinner table with a raging buzz that had started with “the straightener.” He needed to deal with the hangover that had greeted him Christmas morning.
Someone at the table said something Tommy took exception to. He snapped a comment right back and the fireworks began. Within 10 minutes of the family sitting down for what should have been a moment to bring them all together, Tommy found himself sitting at the table all alone.
“It’s all right, dad, ” said his son after letting Tommy contemplate his broken promise for a little while. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Tommy, not his real name, realized right there and then the mistake he had made was turning his back on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) earlier in the fall.
He had called AA on his own, hoping members would show him how to drink responsibly. When he realized AA was about giving up drinking altogether, he conveniently skipped out of his house before the two members he had contacted came to pick him up for his first meeting.
After the Christmas Day experience, though, he knew it was time to give AA another shot. Later that evening, he had a glass of rum and water. Then, he had another—the last drink he has had in the nearly 29 years since.
Tommy, now 84 years old, had actually stayed away from booze for six weeks after making that first call in the fall of 1982. One night of drinking, even though it was in moderation, was enough to end his dry spell.
“Within a week, I was right back to where I was the night I first called AA, ” said Tommy.
It wasn’t just Christmas that Tommy had ruined. He was drinking heavily before he got married at age 30 and the sudden increase in responsibilities that came with having kids only exacerbated the problem. The two or three beers at the tavern after work devolved into staying at the bar until closing time and going to work hung over almost everyday.
“I had small children and don’t remember much about their first words or first steps, ” said a regretful Tommy. “I caused my family a lot of problems. I was never cruel to them and they were always fed and clothed, but there were lot of things they could have had and should have had if I didn’t drink the way I did.”
Tommy never had a car until he was 39 because he was afraid he’d drink and drive, not to mention he would rather spend money on booze than gas. When he finally did buy a car, it wasn’t long before he was sloppily navigating the back roads in order to avoid the police. The one time he was pulled over wasn’t a deterrent. The officer knew his brother and let him go with a warning.
By the time Christmas rolled around in 1983, Tommy was nearing a full year of sobriety and was well on his way to repairing his relationship with his family.
“I wondered how I was going to sit at the table and face my family after what went on the year before, ” he said. “I wanted to make amends and, you know what? I sat to my Christmas dinner and ate it and I don’t think I even thought about being an alcoholic that day. That’s when I knew that, if I could do this for one year, I could keep going.”
Tommy knows he is lucky to be alive these last three decades, let alone to have regained his family’s respect.
It’s all because of the call he made to AA on Christmas Day in 1982, the continued support of that fellowship, the inspiration from his family and his determination to stick with the program.
The program offered at AA is more than putting down the drink, as Tommy learned. It’s also about learning how to deal wi
th the myriad of emotional and social hurt the alcoholic’s drinking has caused.
This weekend, Tommy will be among more than 200 AA members from across Newfoundland and Labrador and Nova Scotia expected to be in Corner Brook for the 47th annual assembly for Area 82 of the organization.
AA is not just about helping oneself, said Tommy. Part of its mandate is to reach out to those still struggling with the alcoholic demon inside them.
Since he stopped drinking, Tommy has dedicated the rest of his life to helping others do the same. And he has helped many others, acting as their mentor on their difficult path to overcoming the disease of alcoholism.
“Some people don’t make it at first, but then they finally get it, ” he said. “Some don’t get the opportunity to come back. I know an awful lot of people who have died too early because they couldn’t give up booze.
“I definitely consider myself one of the lucky ones and I want to help get other people sober.”
He’s Looking Forward to a “Dry, ” Happy Christmas
Author Unknown
’TIS THE SEASON TO be jolly, the old Christmas carol says, but for a 49-year old St. John’s man named Phil, Christmas for many years was the season to be miserable.
For Phil as he explained in a Telegram interview, was an alcoholic for years.
“I was what you might call a rock bottom drunk, ” he said, in preface to his grim tale.
Phil said he went to work at the age of ten and “I drank when I was supposed to go to school.” At the age of 14, he began a serious drinking career that went on for 26 years and saw him use every trick in the book to get a drink. As a result of his lack of education and his preference for drinking, he can neither read nor write.
