We always went to Grandma and Grandpa’s for Christmas, and 1928 was no different, even though the wind had blown the snow into high snow drifts across the driveway and against the outbuildings.
Because of the amount of snow we had already received, Dad asked the snowplow driver on Christmas Eve day to plow our driveway so we’d be able to get the car out the following morning.
On Christmas morning, when Dad went out to start the Model A, it wouldn’t start. So he hooked up the team of horses, and they pulled the car to get it started.
When we made it to Grandma and Grandpa’s, the house was overflowing with cousins, aunts and uncles. We had much fun as Aunt Nina played the old pump organ while we all sang Christmas carols.
After a fun-filled day, we left my grandparents’ house and headed home. When we got there, we discovered that the fires in the stoves had gone out. My parents got the fires started, and we sat in the parlor, still wearing our coats, until heat began to spread through the rooms. Shiny footrests along the sides of the furnace provided us a place to put our cold feet.
Mother made fudge and popcorn, which we enjoyed while listening to records on the tall, four-legged phonograph Dad had bought when he came home from France after World War I.
Daybreak brought blinding sunshine, but I was eager to try out the new sled I’d received for Christmas, so outside we went. I pulled the sled up the hill, then laid on my stomach upon it and pushed off with one foot. Down the slope it started, going faster and faster until the ground leveled off, ending the thrilling ride. My brother, Lee, also enjoyed riding on my sled.
Other fun activities in the snow included laying on my back on the hillside and moving my arms and legs back and forth in the snow, creating a beautiful imprint of angel wings.
I also learned to ski on the same hills, and many tumbles were taken.
Read more fun winter tales by CAPPER’s readers in Winter Stories.