DelMarVa's Premier Source for News, Opinion, Analysis, and Human Interest Contact Publisher Joe Albero at alberobutzo@wmconnect.com or 410-430-5349
Wednesday, December 25, 2019
What Christmas Trees Looked Like 100 Years Ago
The Christmas Tree didn't become a popular tradition in the U.S. until the mid 1850's. At that time, many of the trees were lit with actual candles. After quite a few fires, people shifted to tinsel, ornaments, and eventually artificial lights. In the late 1800's and early 1900's, there wasn't wide-spread agreement on exactly what a tree should look like, which made for lots of creativity. Here are a few of our favorite photos...
See More Photos HERE
100+ Years of Tradition: Vintage Retail Holiday Window Displays Through the Years
Long ago, before anybody had even dreamed of the internet, people did their holiday shopping in a charmingly analog way: by scoping out gifts in store windows. Then, in 1883, the smart folks at the Macy’s department store in New York City realized that they could draw even more people to their store windows by putting on a show. The first Macy’s Christmas display, which featured a mechanical Santa’s sleigh pulled by reindeer, drew fascinated crowds, and a holiday tradition was born.
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California Kindergarten student sells cookies and hot cocoa to pay off classmates' lunch debt
VISTA, Calif. - A 5-year-old girl's act of kindness helped clear the overdue lunch balances over 100 of her fellow classmates in Southern California.
When Katelynn Hardee heard that some students were struggling to pay off their lunch debt at her elementary school, she decided she wanted to find a way to help.
That's when Katelynn came up with a plan.
"I can give money to the lunch people so they'll have money," she said. "So they can lunch and snack."
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When Katelynn Hardee heard that some students were struggling to pay off their lunch debt at her elementary school, she decided she wanted to find a way to help.
That's when Katelynn came up with a plan.
"I can give money to the lunch people so they'll have money," she said. "So they can lunch and snack."
More
Anonymous Donor Drops Rare $1,000 Bill into Salvation Army Kettle
An anonymous donor in Morgantown, West Virginia, dropped a rare and generous gift into a red Salvation Army kettle this week.
The unknown individual who slipped a $1,000 dollar bill printed in 1928 into the red bucket recently has been doing the same thing for the past 41 years, according to WBOY.
The $1,000 bill was first issued by the Continental Congress in 1775 to help finance the Revolutionary War, said Matthew Wittmann of the American Numismatic Society.
Today, a $1,000 bill in perfect condition can be worth more than $3,000, according to AntiqueMoney.com.
Salvation Army Lieutenant Sheldon Greenland said he is thankful for the annual gift because it helps the organization provide for those in their community.
“We’re so grateful that we are able to be the recipient of this generous donation because every donation that’s given in this community goes right back into the community,” he said. “I don’t know if everybody knows but we serve about 120 people, every day, Monday through Friday at our feeding program plus we also offer utility assistance plus we have emergency food bags for those that are in need.”
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The unknown individual who slipped a $1,000 dollar bill printed in 1928 into the red bucket recently has been doing the same thing for the past 41 years, according to WBOY.
The $1,000 bill was first issued by the Continental Congress in 1775 to help finance the Revolutionary War, said Matthew Wittmann of the American Numismatic Society.
Today, a $1,000 bill in perfect condition can be worth more than $3,000, according to AntiqueMoney.com.
Salvation Army Lieutenant Sheldon Greenland said he is thankful for the annual gift because it helps the organization provide for those in their community.
“We’re so grateful that we are able to be the recipient of this generous donation because every donation that’s given in this community goes right back into the community,” he said. “I don’t know if everybody knows but we serve about 120 people, every day, Monday through Friday at our feeding program plus we also offer utility assistance plus we have emergency food bags for those that are in need.”
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Real-life Santa: Army vet, 80, has made Christmas toys for kids in need for 50 years
SANFORD, N.C. -- For Jim Annis, Christmas is about giving.
The 80-year-old Army veteran has helped Santa out every holiday season for the past 50 years by creating wooden toys.
Annis spends most of his days carving, sculpting and sanding blocks of wood into toys.
"When the Salvation Army gives out the food and clothes to people in this area, I give out my toys," said Annis. "It feels like you're sort of forgotten about at Christmas time."
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The 80-year-old Army veteran has helped Santa out every holiday season for the past 50 years by creating wooden toys.
Annis spends most of his days carving, sculpting and sanding blocks of wood into toys.
"When the Salvation Army gives out the food and clothes to people in this area, I give out my toys," said Annis. "It feels like you're sort of forgotten about at Christmas time."
More
Merry Christmas 2019
Grandma and Santa Claus
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No, Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbours, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all us kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, dropped the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumours about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95....That store clerk was one of Santa's helpers, too!
May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...
And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No, Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbours, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all us kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, dropped the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumours about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95....That store clerk was one of Santa's helpers, too!
May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...
And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
New Year's Day Bingo
Come start your year off with a bang!!!! Doors open at 530 pm. Door Prizes, 50/50 raffles, plus we are raffling off a flat screen TV. Bring a friend new to our Bingo Hall and each of you get 5 Tickets for the TV Raffle!!!
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