Christmas on Hinckley Street 1952 By Arthur Moore

It was probably around 1952 I think. We lived in a one bedroom apartment. At that time it was just Richard and me, the other four arrived much later on.

Kerosene heat off the stove in kitchen and a kerosene heater in the living room. The dining room was my parents bedroom except for Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner.

My father was into woodworking and not yet a cabinetmaker. Worked at Hood Rubber. This Christmas I remember more than the others, why I do not know. Except for the one on 1966 when I gave my future wife her engagement ring. Of course we didn’t know we were poor which later on explained the gifts we got back then.

We would get a Christmas stocking with fruit and some of those gold coin chocolates. We thought it was such a big deal. The gifts under the tree were clothes of course. But this year we got those Lincoln Logs, tons of them. We could build massive houses and whatever else we wanted. My father for weeks ahead of time hand made them in the cellar. I can still remember the smell of the stain on them.  

We also got a huge bag of these cheap army soldiers that were that green color. So we built forts of course. My parents had made some of the ornaments for the tree. They had moulds for a Santa and used Plaster of paris and then painted them. And we did the old popcorn on a string thing. All this seemed so much fun back them. We were happy. Dining room came apart and then we had table and chairs in there. I don’t know where they came from.

My grandparents were going to come for dinner. We had snacks, mixed unshelled nuts, celery with mixed cream cheese and dates. I can recall the Bessey apple cider. We had the same thing Christmas and Thanksgiving, turkey, sweet potatoes, butternut squash and parsnips.

This one was so special, I don’t know why but it just stays with me and I recall it often. I hope every has special ones. Sadly not everyone does.  

Arthur Moore

4 thoughts on “Christmas on Hinckley Street 1952 By Arthur Moore”

    1. I couldn’t pass that one up. Hinckley Street was a problem, my mother had three boys, then we moved to Park Street then my mother had three girls. My youngest sister I always know here age as she is 20 years younger than me. Was two when I got married. My wife had just the opposite than me. I was brought up with the men don’t cry thing but after learning about her life and Christmases she went through it is enough to make one cry. Took me 50 years to get the stories out of her bit by bit. I am hoping one day I can relate that one when she is ready. Just from her living at the Home for Italian Children until I met her.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.