Reunion Thoughts

This September, the Class of 1958 will celebrate the 50th anniversary of graduation from Whiting High School . A full weekend of activities have been planned to revisit the "Good 'Ol Days," of our alma mater. Classmates who attend will have opportunity to rekindle friendship, recall memories, and review the times of our lives. Special moments will be set aside to pay tribute to classmates who have passed away. They will be remembered with fondness for how they touched our life.

As a class we've been tested and tempered by life's experiences. We've shared sorrow and sadness, happiness and joy, struggle and success. We've paid our dues, learned our lessons and passed the test. Since we wore our cap and gown at Commencement June 4, 1958, we've been blessed with over 18,250 days. We have endured life's flaws, personal imperfections, disappointments, toil, and uncertainty. And, we've celebrated countless days of goodness, joy, and blessings along life's road.

We came together as a class during less-complicated times. We enjoyed Hula-hoops 'n sock hops, five cent candy bars; cruisin' 119th street in cars filled with personality and Standard Red Crown gasoline at 23 cents a gallon. We wore penny loafers, saddle shoes, flat tops, ponytails, and, at times looked like the north end of a south bound duck. We were greased and waxed ready for rock 'n roll; Bill Haley and Elvis never let us down. We sang about the Purple people Eater, and a Hound dog. Each afternoon we tuned in Dick Clark's American Bandstand, and Disney's Mickey Mouse Club; and played snooker and pinball at Nick's. Our home town provided a Community Center where kids could gather and street corners for seminars and informal get-togethers. We fed jukeboxes quarters to hear Top 40 favorites; transistors arrived and portable radios filled our ears. Black and white, 4-channel, television opened windows to our world; at school we rehashed episodes, repeated catch phrases and imitated televised celebrities who visited our living rooms via Zenith and RCA.

There were poodle skirts, crinoline petticoats, shirtwaist dresses, blazers, Jantzen sweaters and bobby socks. Students sported Levi's and slip-ons, white socks and oxfords, leather and nylon jackets. Angora wrapped class rings, and a sundry of fads and fashions as our class took its place in the adolescent world. Classroom pulsed with teenaged energy as we struggled with English, Latin, Spanish, Algebra, Geometry, Chemistry, and Biology. Gifted classmates displayed their talent in athletics, music, drama, art, hands-on courses and extra curricular activities. As a class we celebrated being young. Our friendship and mutual affection filled classrooms and neighborhoods throughout the city. A half century later, that friendship and affection thrives.

Thinking back on those days, I always recall the stores, establishments, and businesses that were the lifeblood of our community. Many are now part of our community's history; others continue to serve residents to this day. Each remembrance sets off a mind movie recalling snippets of days gone by. Ordinary events became extraordinary moments to remember. Do you remember Condes Restaurant� the place to go after the Sunday night dances at St. John's Panel Room; and Condes Grocery. Recall these: Phil Smidts and Son� Radio Center� Madura's Danceland� Bank of Whiting� Sacred Heart School� Northern Indiana Lumber and Coal Co� American Trust and Savings Bank� NIPSCO� Standard Oil (SOCO) � Lovasko Studio� State Bank of Whiting� Weiners Foods� Winsberg's� Lake County Motor Sales� Immaculate Conception Grotto�Hoosier Theater�Whiting Park Lagoon�Ciesco Insurance�.Morris Bollhorst Insurance� Bezan's� Vogel's Restaurant� Tri-City Roofing & Sheet Metal Works� Brown's Apparel� Capital Theater...Wm. R. Siltanen, Jeweler� Purple Steer� Topper Formal Wear� Saint Peter and Paul Church� Orr's TV� Justak & Sons� Wargo's Insurance� Parkview Bowling Alley� McCreary's Barber Shop� Whiting Elks� Slovak Dome� Neal Price's� Whiting Shoes� St. Mary's Hall� Ciesar's� Bialon's Accordion Studio� Lewin & Wolf� A&P Foods� Sherman's Indiana Supply� Margaret's Geneva House� Ed & Paul's Sportsmans Club� Whiting Flower shop� Whiting Shade and Awning� France Ford� Kosier funeral Home� White Star Grocery� W. Vater Coal Company� Schlater's Funeral Home� Central Drug Store� Illiana Shoe Repair Shop� Gyure's Recreation� Whiting Police Department� Parkview Super Mart. Inc� Standard Diamonds� Henry E. Eggers. Co� Aronberg Jewelers� Curosh's� Glenn's Shoe Store� Prairie View Dairy� Hot Dog Louie's� White Castle� Riffer's� Burton's� Whiting Laundry� Towne house Lanes� Central States Bank� Lever Brothers� Daly Hall� Amaizo� Al Knapp's Restaurant� Woolworth's� Ingy's Drugstore� J.J. Newberry's� Walgreen's� The Oil Can� IGA Store� Whiting Post Office� Salmon's Barber shop� Dave's Drugstore� Jos. A. Chilla Bank� Rudolf's House of Beauty� Times Grafic� Illiana Hotel? Kinnane Cleaners� Mills Auto Parts� Standard Hotel� Bubala Food Mart� Gansinger's Jewelers� Dairy Queen� Bercik's Filling Station� Owens Funeral Home? Jack & Jill Shop� Golub Super Market� Baran Funeral Home� National Food Store� Vrabel Photography Studio� Forsythe Park� St. Adalbert's Parish� Kroger Foods� Seifer Furniture Store� National Dairy� Loyal Order of Moose� Victory Restaurant� Chicago's Last Department Store� Whiting Fire Department� Andes� Pizza� Boulevard bakery� Richard's Pharmacy� Ida's New Location� Swarthouse Chevrolet� Hansen Buick� Whiting News Company� Brozovich's Grocery and� and�

One of the nice things about reunions it gives one opportunity to look in life's rear view mirror and savor the past:
Lookin' back and what do we see?
images of what we all used to be;
of times and events with its joy and tears,
only traces remain of our high school years.
We're now so much older as we think what we did,
back at the time when we all were just kids.
The words printed here are about you and I,
filled with memories to laugh and to sigh.
Those times of our lives, the way we were,
are locked in our treasury, safe and secure,
we know that those moments are forever past;
yet by sharing together, we make them last.
Still and all, we're lookin' back to see what we can see,
and it warms the heart to touch those things,
of what we used to be.

Shortcuts

As youngsters, one of the things we often did was take shortcuts. In Whiting-Robertsdale, it didn’t take long for a kid to figure out ways to get from one place to another as quickly as possible. Sometimes, we took conventional routes and traveled streets. Other times, we’d used a combination of streets and alleys to get to our destination. As we grew older and more experienced with hometown geography, we added routes through neighborhood yards, empty lots, between buildings, across railroad tracks, and over fences. Our youthful energy and exuberance fueled our decision for the quickest way to get from here to there. Occasionally, we were scolded for not using the sidewalk, leaving a neighbor’s gate unlatched, stepping on someone’s lawn, scaling fences, and for trespassing a stranger’s property; but most of the time the shortcuts were uninterrupted passages through youth.

The vast majority of kids who used shortcuts knew it was a temporary means to an end. We realized as one grew older, shortcuts would be frowned upon and viewed as a character flaw: an unwillingness or irresponsibility to invest the necessary energy, effort, and commitment to properly complete a task. Today, we seem to be moving in a direction away from responsibility: at times, it resembles a stampede.

The evidence is everywhere. Countless times, corporate leaders, business tycoons, managers, white and blue collar employees search out, invent, and, (no pun intended) go out of their way, to find a shortcut to fulfill personal desires. Financial shenanigans, stealing, criminal acts, and misuse of invested funds are a few of the fraudulent practices employed by greedy, selfish individuals who prefer a self-serving shortcut to the good life. Honorable, dedicated employees are left with next to nothing after investing the majority of their working years in companies that turn their corporate backs on the very people who made them profitable.

Too many, politicians and government officials discard public trust and fill their pockets and personal coffers with hard-earned taxpayer dollars. What is not skimmed off is, many times, wasted on pet projects, kickbacks, and earmarks that embellish their image, power and political importance as they shortcut their way through public life. Their primary focus is not public service, but getting reelected. They so enjoy feeding at the public trough. Look at your elected officials and political leaders. Ask these questions: “Have they improved the quality of life? Have they been honorable stewards of taxpayers’ money? Have they improved the promise of America ? Can you see and feel the goodness of their public service? Or, is their time in office an accumulation of shortcuts to the taxpayer’s pockets? You decide.

Radio and television stations broadcast shortcuts by satellites and cable 24-7. Social, government, and business institutions once revered as the bedrock of American society are now ridiculed--weakened like rain-soaked cardboard castles. We’ve become conditioned to accept violence, corruption, and second-rate standards of behavior, personal conduct, and performance. Too many people no longer challenge vulgarity, sleazy media, slip-shod work, or immoral conduct. Good people are often mocked and derided as “out of touch.” Many years ago, there was a common phrase: “...going to hell in a hand basket.” Americans have found the shortcut and traffic is heavy.

How many parents and children spend quality time together as a family: at the dinner table, daily activities, or religious service? Who is there to teach children by word, deed, and example? How do fragmented families compensate children for absent parents and role models? Where do kids go for guidance, comfort, direction, belonging and love? Who is there to teach children the sacredness of being alive? Shortcuts.
How many children arrive at the school house door unable to read or write, ill-behaved, ill-fed, un-nurtured and unloved? Far too many parents take the shortcut to child rearing leaving parenting responsibilities to the school. How many children arrive each day in classrooms unprepared for class, sleep deprived, angry, upset, and, in some cases, over medicated? How many children end their day without nightly prayers, bedtime stories, and warm hugs and kisses? Shortcuts.

The sad thing about all of this is that once conditioned to such a mind set, a person will seek shortcuts all through life. In our modern world we see evidence of shortcuts across the board. Too often, our own cleverness does us in. Americans want honest, effective government, financial success, economic well-being, security, and freedom; but are too busy to study issues, contact representatives, make our voices heard and exercise our duty as citizens. Our complaints and excuses are many—ballots cast are few. Shortcuts. When one thinks about it, so many want so much using a shortcut: respect, friendship, commitment, trust, success, honor, celebrity, importance, and love. And, the ultimate arrogance: wanting a shortcut to Heaven, unwilling to follow the Word and pay the price. We’re all on a similar journey, headed for the same destination; once upon a time, taking a shortcut was cool. Today, maybe we should find a better way.

Traditions: Endangered or Lost?

This is about Traditions: customs, practices, doctrines, and knowledge transferred from one generation to the next. What follows is a review of traditions that once-upon-a-time defined our society, the American way of life, and our personal character. Some have disappeared completely; others are endangered of fading away. Still others have been shoved aside for reasons not explained. Are we better off with or without these traditions? You decide.

Traditionally, one took pride in their social and personal behavior: appropriate language, attire, grooming, personal demeanor, deportment, respect of elders, faithfulness, commitment, keeping one’s word, respect of property, cleanliness, courtesy, kindness, respect, thoughtfulness, moral conduct, trust, honesty, and responsibility.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, schools used to be a safe place for students.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, family, church, and school formed the bedrock of society. Each
agency worked for the betterment of individual’s lives and shared many of the
same objectives and goals. A Hallmark of this societal triad was their mutual support and respect of purpose.
Endangered or lost?

Education: Traditionally, we applaud academic success, athletic prowess, and achievement. Upon graduation each student was expected to have acquired an appropriate quantity, understanding and quality of citizenship, self-reliance effective language arts, communication skills, vocabulary, grammar, creativity, social skills and cognitive ability.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, parents taught their children Common Sense, nurtured self-esteem, assigned household chores, promoted family-centered values, demonstrated an
honorable work ethic, pride in one character, propagated religious doctrine, and
prepared a solid foundation for self-reliance, personal character, and challenges
of adult life.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, we used to take pride in personal letter writing. Today it’s email or text messaging: electronic scribbling that shuns proper use of the English
language.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, parents and schools emphasized Reading , Reading Comprehension,
and Mathematics: today, many children are deficient in reading and mathematics.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, parents and schools emphasized spelling accuracy and legible
penmanship: today, spelling and hand writing is of less importance.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, families ate dinner together; parent’s monitored homework, read
bedtime stories, and said nightly prayers with their children.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, courtship engagement, marriage, children (in that order) was the
personal, social, and religious norm for standard moral behavior.
Endangered or lost?

And, consider these:
Traditionally, school began the day after Labor Day: today, the middle of August.
Traditionally, schools went on Christmas Vacation: today, winter break
Traditionally, schools went on Easter vacation: today, spring break
Traditionally, Christmas shopping season began the day after Thanksgiving:
today, it is the week before Halloween
Traditionally, shoppers were greeted with “Merry Christmas!” Today, it’s Happy
Holidays.
Traditionally, when one made a telephone call, it was answered in America
in English. Today, calls are answered by someone in a foreign country and you
have to Press 1 for English.
Endangered or lost?

Traditionally, a highlight of the fall season was the perfume from burning autumn
leaves. Today, one can get ticketed or arrested by the authorities.
Endangered or lost?

And here is one close to home: Traditionally, the logo of Whiting High School
has been the Oil Can. Today, it’s a derrick. When did the “Whiting Oilers”
become the “Whiting Derricks,” or the “Whiting Drillers”? For a ton of years, the
Oil Can was the logo on the gym floor, letterheads, Reflectors, jackets, coats, t-
shirts, and TATTLERS. There was even a giant Oil Can atop the concession stand
at the football field. In 1957, a teenage gathering place on White Oak Avenue for
Whiting High students was named: “The Oil Can!” Then, a number of years ago, a
derrick replaced the Oil Can. Has the school song changed? “Hail sturdy
derricks…, or, “Hail sturdy drillers…? For decades the school song began with:
“Hail sturdy Oilers…” What happened?

Endangered or lost?

We lose traditions through lack of knowledge or a disregard for historical significance, allegiance, and importance. Most of us only do what is important and meaningful. We set our priorities, decide importance, assign our standard of convenience and proceed. Historically, Whiting High School , “The Oilers,” has had a rich tradition that spans more than 100 years. Perhaps there should be a “History of Whiting” course taught as an elective in Whiting City Schools? Tradition is strengthened by education.

This came to our attention as the WHS Class of 1958 plans its 50-year anniversary of graduation. Over the years, to show its appreciation for traditions of its alma mater, The Class of 1958, restored and illuminated the outdoor clock above the main entrance of the high school in 1988; five years later, classmates added a carillon and chimes. This same class was the catalyst behind the “Walk of Fame” at the athletic complex where alumni, friends, and patrons of Whiting City Schools could purchase an engraved memorial brick. In 1998, on the 100th anniversary of Whiting High School , the Class of ’58 presented the School City of Whiting with the original Whiting High School flag designed in 1932. Members of this remarkable class understand and celebrate traditions. Hopefully, the “Oil Can” logo will be returned to its place of prominence as symbol of Whiting High School .

AT 67: OBSERVATIONS, MUSINGS, THOUGHTS, & OPINIONS

--Asking for help is not a sign of weakness; rather, it is a sign of strength.

--Attitude is 90% of living.

--People afraid to die, are also afraid to live.

--Self-worth is beneficial to a one’s well-being; self-importance can become self destructive.

--Everyone has Greatness within. We have to figure out what that greatness is and give our gift to others.

--If one spends the majority of their time trying to be happy; they’ll never be happy. If one spends their time making others happy; they’ll always be happy.

--Laughter is necessary for good health. Laugh often with others and always at yourself.

--The gifts of kindness and thoughtfulness are always returned more abundantly.

--Love cannot be bought. Love must be given freely, unconditionally—always.

--Women are smarter than men—always have been, always will be.

--Women never forget; men can’t remember!

--Seeing the face of a new born child is the closest one ever gets to seeing God while on this earth.

--Not believing in God is like asking me to believe that the dictionary resulted from an explosion in a print shop!

--All children do not learn the same way.

--Regardless of one’s age; everyone can learn something new each day.

--Words don’t mean—people mean.

--We only do what is important to us.

--I learned a long time ago, that for some things in life—the price is too high.

--Time is more precious than money.

--One’s health is more valuable than anything!

--Why are so many worthwhile things in life so elusive?

--Why are so many tasks a struggle?

--Promises made—should be kept.

--Commitments are contracts within us—they bind together heart, mind, spirit, and soul.

--Always read the fine print.

--Education is the key to economic strength, effective government, and the life blood of democracy.

--Next to unconditional love, sovereignty is the greatest gift one can give another.

--There are many different kinds of love.

--Everyone needs a reason a get up in the morning.

--Everyone wants to feel valued, necessary, and successful.

--Everyone wants to be loved and have someone to love in return

--Some people are dumb as a shovel

--Hard times and personal struggle builds self-reliance, independence, strengthens and fortifies one’s character.

--One may give up on America ; but America will never give up on them—the

United States offers unlimited opportunity. That’s why the word: American ends with

“I CAN.”

--The two most difficult jobs in America : citizen and parent—are entrusted to

Amateurs.

--It doesn’t matter what’s happened to us; the important thing is what we do about it!

--Everyone has a story.

--Two questions asked in front of the mirror: Am I satisfied with my life? Am I happy?

--As teenagers, on our first date, I looked in Suzanne’s eyes and saw the rest of my life.

--As my soul-mate, she taught me how to “see” with my heart.

--What’s in the box? -- Faith, Trust, Honor, Respect, and Responsibility.

--Share your sunshine, give away your smiles, and pray for an endless supply.

--I was born at a very early age.

--Until I was thirteen, I thought my name was “SHUT UP.”

--I cannot remember the last time I was angry.

--I can always remember the last time I laughed.

--Never be so bold and ask God to make life easy; but, be humble enough and pray that He makes things possible.

--God always answers our prayers—one has to listen carefully, because at times, He says: NO!

--As a high school graduate, all I ever wanted was a chance to do better!

--Always say “Thank You.”

--What happens to you as a child stays with you all your days.

--Schools have become society’s fix-it shop.

--So many of today’s kids have everything—but they have nothing; we had next to nothing—but had everything.

--One has to believe in sunshine, especially on cloudy days.

--Only 10% of what we worry about ever happens.

--Every day should be an adventure. Discover your passion and pursue it unceasingly!

--Teaching is magic!

--Growing old is sometimes scary.

--Babies are like the dawn; the elderly are God’s human sunsets.

--Whether one believes in God is not nearly as important as if God believes in you.

--Humans do not like to eat their own words, say they’re sorry, or admit wrongdoing; they prefer to delegate blame.

--We are all teachers—we learn from each other.

--Holdings hands is sign language from the heart

--Respect is never given—it is earned through decency and love.

--The only days you don’t read are the days you don’t eat.

--Work each day as if you’re paying your own salary

--Have faith in your own dreams; be true to yourself.

--Hug someone today.

--Say a prayer for someone today.

--Savor the past, celebrate the present, and embrace the future.

Koch's Choice January ~ A Birthday--Remembered

For many, the start of a New Year is resolution time: a chance to tidy up life and smooth out rough edges. It is also a time for reflection: to review the bookmarks in our life’s scrapbook and revisit people, places, and events that shaped our life. January not only signals the beginning of a New Year, it is also the month of my birthday. Twenty-one days after parties of “ring-out-the-old; ring-in-the-new,” balloons, confetti, noise-makers, glasses of good cheer, and Auld Lang Syne of New Year’s Eve, I celebrate my personal New Year.

Birthdays are milestones we have a tendency to note. On occasion, there are special birthdays which signify importance and serve as personal landmarks: a coming of age, a transition, a passage from one stage to the next; or extraordinary moments. I remember my 21st birthday.

Employed at Inland Steel, I was in my fourth year as a machinist apprentice. A number of months earlier, along with a co-worker, I decided to pursue a license in radio-television repair in concert with my apprenticeship studies. The school, based in Detroit, had opened an extension in Hammond, and offered flexible schedules for those who worked shift work at local mills, refineries, and factories: working days--night school; four to twelve--day school. Rarely, was I scheduled midnights.

In December of 1961, the apprentice coordinator discovered my attempt at additional schooling outside my trade area and took umbrage. He asked me to quit electronic school and focus on being a machinist. I refused. In retaliation for my obstinate behavior, he directed the turn foreman to schedule me for midnights until further notice. Right after New Year’s I began working midnights.
Not only did I dislike midnights, I hated working Saturdays. Saturday day-turn was almost tolerable, but working four-to-twelve or midnights was something to be avoided. Being off Saturdays became a personal priority. I had not worked Saturday 4 to 12 for over three years. Call-off excuses, switching schedules with co-workers, and whatever ploy I could think of was used so I could be off. The General Foreman asked me how my grandmother could die three times during the year--- all on Saturdays. I mumbled something about pioneer stamina; took the static and paid the price. I learned early that forgiveness is easier to get than permission. Besides, I had more enjoyable things to do on a Saturday evening. Time and again, I’d ask my foreman to be off on Saturday. Time and again he refused using the same refrain: “Follow the schedule posted.” End of discussion.

Now, however, my penance for incurring management’s wrath was set by the general foreman as per the apprentice coordinator. In 1962, the twenty-first of January was a Sunday. Working the “graveyard shift” meant being in the plant around 11:30 Saturday night. On a date with my favorite car hop we loaded up with Karmel Korn, went to movies at the Paramount in Hammond, and, afterwards, enjoyed cheeseburgers at the Fat Boy Drive-In near Woodmar. All too soon it was time to take her home and head for the mill.

January 20th was a cold frozen snow-less winter night. There was a skeleton crew working Saturday night for Sunday and the shop was uncommonly quiet save for the motors and support systems that fed energy to the various appliances. Around 1:30 Sunday morning the guys sent me to the canteen for coffee. Located about 400 feet from the shop one had to walk past the Forge Shop, over the 24” bar mill run-out table and cross Bar Mill Avenue. Before going outside I bundled up. In addition, I also tied the cuffs of my pants to my ankles with twine and found a four-foot stick to carry. Going to the canteen was uneventful. The return trip, however, was always a challenge. Carrying a tray of hot coffees, the resident mill rats smelled the sweetness of the coffee’s cream and sugar. On bitter cold nights, rats search for warmth. Therefore, one tied his cuffs tight to his ankles to prevent unwanted intruders. The stick was used to drive away bold rodents desperate for food. Walking back to the shop, balancing the tray of coffee while fending off brazen wildlife, the bitter cold became a secondary concern. I remember looking up at the bare bulbs lighting the walkway back to the shop. The 150 watts of power fought back darkness but could not defeat the bleak, desolate cold, depressing surroundings that fought for my attention. In the midst of all this I promised: “Some day I’ll laugh about this!” as I continued swinging my staff at cat-sized rats. Just before I reached the relative safety and warmth of the shop, I shouted to the cold darkness: “Happy birthday to me!” I delivered the coffee, untied my pant legs, and enjoyed my coffee, sans rodents.

Full time employment ended August of ‘64. Weekends and summer work, in 1967. It’s been more than forty years since I worked midnights. Looking back, I loved every minute of my time in the mill and kept my promise about laughter. Those youthful experiences amid the grime and grease helped form the person I became. Who knows, on my birthday this year, I just might put on a pair of blue jeans, get a cup of coffee, tie the pant legs to my ankles, find a nice stick to swing back and forth; and sing Happy Birthday to Me! Happy New Year, everyone!

Koch's Choice December ~ Gifts of Christmas

In December of 1952, I was in Sister Mary Applesauce’s sixth grade at Sacred Heart School in Whiting. I was also a member of the boys’ choir that would sing Christmas carols at midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. Along with seventh and eighth grade boys, Sacred Heart’s choir sounded angelic. For the better part of the year, we were mischievous, free spirited youths; but, at Christmastime, we transformed into pious, dignified, well-disciplined Catholic lads. We practiced daily in the downstairs parish hall giving us an hour respite from our daily diet of “applesauce” and salvation. Sister Melody guided and directed our voices into a heavenly chorale of altos, sopranos, and tenors. During rehearsal we were all business. We took Sister’s direction without nonsense or challenge. Vocal warm ups, breathing exercises, and melodic variations were practiced over and over. Suffice to say, as Christmas approached, the Sacred Heart Boys’ Choir sounded magnificent! Even so, once school had ended for the day, I focused on more pressing secular matters.

Excited with the anticipation of Christmas and full of the holiday spirit, I wanted to buy my mother a special gift. The major hindrance to this plan was lack of funds. Although money was scarce, by age 11, I had become financially resourceful. Without regular cash flow, I needed to find a dependable revenue supply.

Early on, around fourth grade, I discovered people threw away soda bottles and metal coat hangers. Pop bottles were worth two-cent each, and Kinanne’s Cleaners paid one-cent for every two coat hangers. Several times a week I would scrounge neighbor’s trash searching for discarded bottles and hangers. Occasionally, a Canfield’s bottle worth 5-cents would be discovered. Dozens of forays searching through neighborhood garbage cans over the summer and autumn had generated a tidy sum. Kindly merchants were always generous knowing I had not purchased the soda in their store, paid out the deposit regardless.

Comic books and small toys filled the bill for my brother and younger sister. Dad got a carton of Old Gold cigarettes; but I wanted to buy Mom something special. In spite of frugal budgeting my Christmas funds were nearly depleted. By the time I arrived at Sherman’s Indiana Supply store, I was down to my last dollar and coins. Sherman’s had a bright new store along 119th Street at Central Avenue. They sold hardware, paint, plumbing, and house wares. Mrs. Parker, the salesperson, helped me select a nice “Mom” gift—a 10” Pyrex pie-baking dish. With its scalloped edge, the glass dish resembled the one I had dropped and broke earlier while washing dishes. I handed Mrs. Parker the last of my funds—one dollar and fifty cents. Along with the receipt, she gave me eleven cents change. Wrapped in holiday paper printed with green holly and red berries the pie plate made an elegant gift. I took it home, wrote: “For Mom” on a gummed sticker, and when no one was watching, placed it under the tree.

Our family always opened gifts after six-o’clock on Christmas Eve. I learned later this was so we could wear something new to Midnight Mass. Mom said all the right things as she unwrapped my present. Later, dressed in a freshly unwrapped white shirt and dark trousers, bundled against the cold, Dad walked with my brother and me to Sacred Heart arriving at church around 10 o’clock. We went to the sacristy, put on our white cassock and surplus, and took our assigned places. Sister Superior, who was in charge of the entire choir, monitored our progress and behavior. We lined up according to grade and Sister gave each of us a booklet with the words to the carols. A small pump organ was placed in the Sanctuary. One of the parishioners, Melvin Schaffer, would be the choir’s accompanist.

At eleven o’clock we silently marched out and took our place behind the Communion rail. At selected intervals, a single lighted blue votive candle was positioned as marker indicating where to stand. Sixth-graders in the front row, seventh-graders in the middle row, and eight-graders in the back row. Sacred Heart Church was beautifully decorated for Christmas. The Nativity scene was on display to the side. Blue light bulbs formed a heavenly glow around the crib and figurines. Fresh evergreen trees decorated with lights and tinsel filled the sanctuary: pine-scented perfume added to the ambiance and majesty of the moment. The church was filled to capacity.

On cue, the organ played and we sang. We opened with “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and closed with “Silent Night.” Our English and Latin were flawless. The packed church beamed as our voices presented ageless hymns of Christmas. After our presentation, we silently walked to our places--folding chairs set up in the Sanctuary facing the main altar. Glancing at the congregation we saw proud parents and parishioners smiling through tearful eyes, the look on their faces conveyed approval and appreciation.

So many years ago, I learned the most important gifts in life are not things but matters of the heart. As proud as I was of that pie plate, it was the “giving” that became treasure. Faith, goodness, kindness, thoughtfulness, friendship, peace, generosity, time, and love become cherished gifts of Christmas. All who touched my life gave me these gifts. Merry Christmas, everyone.