Memories of Batavia during winters past
We live where there are four seasons, and the weather, holidays, and outdoor activities dictate our memories.
I remember how much snow we had in winter during the 50s and 60s, when the ground was covered with snow from November to March. It always seemed there were two feet of snow and never a snow day. You always wore a winter jacket, snow pants, rubber boots, and possibly a Wonder Bread bag over your shoes to make sure your feet stayed dry. A scarf, mittens, and a hat completed your winter attire. We looked like inflated children walking to school.
We spent many hours on the weekends playing in the snow. That was where the snow forts were built, and the snowball fights began. It was also the time to take your Flexible Flyer steel runner wood sled to State Street hill and wait in line for your turn to sail down the hill, only to get to the end of the hill to walk up again and wait your turn in line. If you lived on the south side, you would sled on the South Jackson Street hill, and hopefully, no cars were coming as your sled would end up in the street. We had the snow to play in and the anticipation of the Christmas school break.
Depending on where you lived, there was ice skating. Austin and Kibbe Parks’ wading pools would be transformed into an ice rink, and the Tonawanda Creek also became an ice skating rink. In the early history of Vine Street, there was also ice skating, and today, you can see what remains in a stone-created little building you used to go in to keep warm. That was before John Kennedy School was built. Later, the tennis courts became skating rinks with music to skate to.
The day we would get our Christmas tree, we went to either the Boy Scout Christmas Tree lot or the St. Joseph's Drum Corps tree lot to purchase our tree. We had to wait a day before dragging out the metal stand and trying to set up the tree so it appeared straight. I remember two kinds of lights: the multi-colored large bulbs and the bubble lights. The ornaments were glass, and inevitably, a few would break. Mom or Dad put up the lights because we were too young to do that, and we probably would fight. The best part was the icicles. We would carefully put one strand at a time on the tree, and by the time we were done, we were throwing handfuls. Years later, Gina and Terry were added to the family, and now we had an aluminum Christmas tree.
The youngest brother, John, just sat and watched the chaos. The little sisters weren't born yet. In the winter, board games were played, mostly Monopoly, and some arguing was bound to happen. We always had to ask if getting up on Christmas morning was okay!
Mass was always a big part of our Sunday morning. I remember how beautiful the church looked, all decorated, and voices from the choir filled the air with traditional holiday songs. Our family was so big we filled an entire pew.
Our Mom gave each of my five siblings a photograph album one year. It must have taken her a year to make them; we treasured them. In those pages, we were growing up through pictures. The six of us just sat in the living room, sharing photographs and recalling so many memories, and today, we would give anything to have one more day like that. It was the best Christmas gift we ever received.
Another highlight of Christmas Day was the five-course meal that was prepared. If you are Italian, you know exactly what I mean. Dinner took place in our dining room, at the adult table, and in the kitchen, at the kid's table. Before dinner, our Dad always said grace and added something beautiful about being thankful for his family and all being able to share Christmas. After dinner, we would get into the station wagon and ride around Batavia looking at the Christmas lights. Our first stop was the NYS School for the Blind, where we saw the miniature Christmas Village. It was a time when you could see the Nativity Scene on city property. When I think of Christmas today and as a child, I wouldn't change a thing. I loved growing up in a big family because we all share the same memories, and the stories of our younger years get embellished every year as we tell them over and over again.
It will always be the Blind School, State Park Hill, St. Anthony's, St. Mary's, Sacred Heart Church, and St. Joseph Church. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa to my readers. I hope your winter season is a time to create new memories and cherish the old ones.
