From Axer to Ziegler

O Holy Night is probably my favorite carol, followed closely by Silent Night, both for reasons pertaining to my family.

O Holy Night is the most beautiful carol I ever heard. . . . as my father sang it A cappella, in his clear, strong tenor voice.  Dad had been raised by his grandparents in Washington DC, and was a Choirboy at the “Church of the Presidents,” the historic Christ Church.  The boys would sing O Holy Night each Christmas Eve for the traditional Christmas Eve Service.

Early in their marriage, my father sang it for my mother, as the story goes, and she was awed by it.  So awed that she insisted he sing it when they were at a Christmas party one year.  The entire party chanted and clapped until he sang it.  It was years before he ever sang it again since he was not a public person.  When he did begin to sing it again, he would sing it for us every Christmas as we grew up and we loved it!  To this day I still get goosebumps when I hear this carol sung by a tenor with a clear and powerful voice.

The words to the carol are:

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

‘Til He appear’d and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels’ voices!

O night divine, O night when Christ was born;

O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,

With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.

So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,

Here come the wise men from Orient land.

The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger;

In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!

Behold your King, Behold your King.

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,

His power and glory evermore proclaim.

His power and glory evermore proclaim.

The next carol, Silent Night, has particular meaning in my life, because it reminds me of the year my son was born.  He was born in December, and our Church had the tradition of a Living Nativity.  At the end of the Christmas Eve Service the entire congregation would walk out of the Church carrying lit candles and singing Silent Night.  As they walked out, they saw the re-creation of that first Christmas.  The family with the newest infant portrayed the Holy Family.   In 1963, we were that family.  Forty five years later, I cannot hear that carol without thinking of that special Christmas Eve.

The words to that carol are:

Silent night, holy night
All is calm all is bright
‘Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night,
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heav’nly hosts sing Alleluia;
Christ the Saviour is born
Christ the Saviour is born

Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth

Since caroling is not caroling without either of these magnificent carols, I hope our group will include these, just before the hot chocolate is served!

This picture was taken in 1923 in Sacramento, California when my mother was four years old.  The family was visiting  my great-grandmother, Minnie von Breyman, from Hilo, Hawaii.

Mother’s Day 2008, Lake Forest, California

I flew out to California from Pennsylvania this year to surprise my mother for Mother’s Day.  My daughter and granddaughter joined me and the three of us drove to my brother’s home to surprise her.  This picture commemorates the occasion.  It was a wonderful day and one none of us will forget.

My mother is in the middle, I’m standing behind her, my daughter on my mother’s left, and my granddaughter is on her right.

My Grandmother’s Obituary:

SHERMAN, NELLIE VIOLA
Age 84 years in Riverside, April 30, 1976. Mother of William F. Sherman Jr. & Vincent E. Sherman. Also survived by 7 grandchildren & 5 great-grandchildren. Private services and inurnment were held in Evergreen Cemetery. Acheson & Graham Garden of Prayer Mortuary Directors.

Let’s take this obituary apart.  It’s a short one, so it will be easy to do.

1.  SHERMAN, NELLIE VIOLA
Age 84 years in Riverside, April 30, 1976.
Her name, age, place of death and date are correct.  So far, so good.

2.  Mother of William F. Sherman Jr. & Vincent E. Sherman.
Yes, she was the mother of William F. and Vincent E. Sherman.  However, if nobody knew, they’d assume both of them lived in Riverside, wouldn’t they?  After all, the obituary was published in Riverside and she died in Riverside.  The assumption would be wrong. William F. lived about an hour south of Riverside in San Diego County and Vincent E. lived across the country in Virginia!

3.  Also survived by 7 grandchildren & 5 great-grandchildren.
Yes, she had 7 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren.

4.  Private services and inurnment were held in Evergreen Cemetery.
Now this is where the facts are really, really wrong!  Private Services?  No.  Inurnment at Evergreen Cemetery?  Definitely No.

This obituary was printed in the newspaper on 1 May, the day after she died.  Now, how conceivable is this?  Services and inurnment held in time for the morning paper?

Private Services were held . . . but not until June 15 when her name was on the headstone with her mother in Springhill Cemetery in Shippensburg, Pennsylvania!

Inurned in Evergreen Cemetery in Riverside, California?  Never happened.  She wasn’t inurned until she was inurned with her mother’s remains in Pennsylvania.

I remember the day she died. My father, the above mentioned William F., called me at work to tell me.  I left work and headed for my parents home an hour and a half away.  I do not remember any services or inurnments since they lived in San Diego County and she died in Riverside County. Since I have her death certificate and all of the bills and receipts from both the mortuary in Riverside and cemetery in Shippensburg, I can say with confidence that the obituary is wrong.

So who furnished the information for the obituary?  The family usually does, don’t they?  Well, yes and no in this case.  The family furnished the information about her descendants to the mortuary, and the mortuary furnished the information to the newspaper. . . . . embellishing it a little.

Springhill Cemetery, Shippensburg, Pennsylvania

In summation, death certificates and obituaries, are not always to be taken as gospel.  They are only as accurate as the knowledge of the person furnishing the information.  It’s the same today as it was in the days our ancestors lived and breathed on this fine earth!

. . . and for as long as my mother can remember (and she’s 89 years old!) and her sister can remember (and she’s 82 years old!) Popeye has only had one leg!! Funny, he kept his pipe, but not his leg!

My mother grew up in Hilo, Hawaii, and these were part of their Christmas decorations when she was a child. My aunt remembers them and my uncle remembers them. . . . and I have them!!

Growing up, our Christmas celebrations in Hawaii, on Guam and then in California always included these.  Each one of us, my parents, my brother, my sister and I, got to chose the ornament we wanted to hang.  We’d rotate years, so one year, every  five years, we’d get first pick!  Invariably, my sister and I would fight over Little Orphan Annie.  Nobody wanted one legged Popeye!  I don’t remember who would hang the remaining ornament, after all that was decades ago!!

one legged, pipe smoking, tattooed Popeye

As the children left home, and celebrations at my parents’ home got less elaborate, the ornaments were finally mine!  My children, then my grandchildren looked for them every year and wanted to put them on the tree, and so the tradition continued.  Four generations, enjoying the beat-up wooden ornaments.

This year they will hang from the arms on the light over my dining room table.  They’ve been there before and I enjoy seeing them as I eat my breakfast.

. . . in a few years, I’m not ready to let them go quite yet, they’ll be passed on to one of my children so they can continue the tradition of

. . . the old, beat-up, wooden cartoon ornaments.