Christmas Turkey

One of the neatest things about our Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations was the roasting of the turkey.  Most years we managed to afford a turkey which was a great thing since we enjoyed such a unique way of cooking it.  We owned a stainless steel rotisserie, a gift to my Dad from Hopalong Cassidy (William Boyd).  Dad did Hoppy’s stunts during the filming of the Hopalong Cassidy films.  I never recall my Mother cooking our turkey in anything but that rotisserie, and it was from watching her that I discovered the secret to a great turkey: soy sauce.  There was one problem with the rotisserie though: it invariably blew out the electrical circuit.  Probably the first time it happened it was a surprise and I can just imagine my Dad frantically looking for a spare circuit breaker on Thanksgiving.  But for as long as I can remember, my Dad always kept spares because there was no doubt that the fuse would sooner or later blow while the turkey was cooking.  I inherited the rotisserie and for my first couple of Thanksgiving’s in our Covina home, we cooked our turkeys in it.  And just like when I was growing up, it would invariably blow our fuse as well and Skip came to be prepared with spares.  Like my Mom, my secret basting ingredient was soy sauce which I still employ to this day.  Sadly, when the rotisserie’s cooking rod broke and a replacement couldn’t be found, we finally had to let Hoppy’s rotisserie go.  I was heartbroken and not sure how I would handle the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner until your Dad suggested barbecuing it.  So, Girls, your Dad was actually the instigator of our family tradition of barbecuing the turkey for Thanksgiving.  After a shaky start (our first turkey took some six hours to cook) we were off  with another family tradition.

I don't have any pictures of the rotisserie being used in our Camellia Ave. home while I was growing up but here's one of you, Michaela, at the age of three in 1978 looking with anticipation at our Christmas dinner.  Years later, you are a vegetarian as is your sister Heather and her daughter Cadence.  I am proud of all of you and thanks to your influence, I am very near a vegetarian myself.

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More Christmas Memories

When I was older, in my teens, I would listen to my radio as I drifted off to sleep on Christmas Eve.  (By the way, I loved that radio.  It was a beautiful turquoise, a very popular color at the time.)  One of the songs I distinctly remember hearing on that radio was Johnny Mathis singing “Winter Wonderland.”  I remember it because it was the same song I awoke to that Christmas morning and I thought that was pretty amazing.  Christmas morning began early at our house.  Dad liked to go to the early 6:30 AM Mass which was fine with us kids.  All the better for getting home and discovering what Santa had left for us under the tree.  We were not allowed to go into the living room so Dad and Mom would keep the hall door closed.  We had to leave the house by the backdoor and walk around to the front of the house where the car was parked and running.  (Dad always warmed up the car for us so we’d be toasty on the drive to church.)  Mom never went with us to church, even on Christmas.  She was an Episcopalian and proud of it though she had long ago quit going to her own church.  But that’s a story for another time.

            Some Christmases were better than others when it came to presents.  Some years my Mom would wrap a pair of gloves for me in separate boxes so there would be more gifts under the tree.  That was always a little disappointing as soon as the first glove was unwrapped.  And one year I shook one of my presents, a little gaily-wrapped box, so much that when I opened it Christmas morning, the pretty pink bracelet inside was broken.  I was so ashamed I hid the bracelet for several days before I got up the nerve to ask my Dad if he could fix it.  He did and I never shook one of my presents again, lesson learned. 

This picture is our house in North Hollywood in about 1965 when I was 15.  In earlier years, Dad climbed up on the roof and planted the Santa where all could see him.  In later years, Santa was placed on the front porch.  Dad sometimes put a stereo speaker on the porch as well and entertained our neighbors with Christmas music in the evenings.  He never played it too loud, just loud enough if you were in front of our house you could hear it.  I loved it.  And one of my favorite Christmas albums at the time was by the pianist Roger Williams.

 

Mom saved a number of our art projects and this is one of mine from first grade at St. Pat’s.  It actually seems more like one of my kindergarten projects but we probably did some finger painting in first grade, too.

This photo is of Leo and me in 1953.  I was three and he was seven.  Mom would have been pregnant with Kevin at the time.  In addition to seeing Santa, we also got to see Santa’s reindeer that day.  I love my plaid pants.  My little shoes were black suede with bows. Dad was still doing stunt work for the movies back then so we had the money to buy nicer things.  That would change in about 1956.  Someday I would inherit Leo’s jacket; I do remember wearing it.