During the month of December 1963, things were not going too well for our family. My husband, Bob, had not been able to find a full-time position yet and was working two part-time jobs.
He was selling door-to-door as a Fuller Brush salesman, and on his second job, he was working with another man, selling newspaper subscriptions, only when Bob went to collect his share of the earnings from the sales of subscriptions, the other man had left town and taken Bob's share with him. I just sat in the car and cried.
The Stead Air Base had closed down just before we moved up here from Southern California for my health. There were few jobs, especially in the winter in those days. However, our biggest problem was how we could have a decent Christmas for our eight small children.
The day before Christmas came and so did a big surprise. The teachers at Alice Maxwell School were aware, I guess. They said that they had three Christmas trees that they no longer needed because of the holiday vacation. They sent them home to us. You should have seen the kids hauling them home and put into the house. We only lived around the corner from the school. We put one in the living room, one in the girls' room and one in the boys' room, trimmed as best we could.
Therefore, the problem of a tree was solved. It did not solve the problem of the rent being paid, though. The landlord was a bit of a jerk and drove up with his mother to collect the rent. He was not too happy when I told him that I could not give him all of it. He kind of "humphed" and left a little testy. About 15 minutes later I heard a knock on the door and there he stood with a $20 bill in his hand and his mother smiling out the car window, bless her.
My friend Marion (from my former years in Reno) who had no children and somewhere along the way adopted ours, came calling, bringing Tonka trucks and dolls to put around the Christmas tree, making the kids' eyes sparkle, and bless her, too.
Just then there was another knock on the door. Thank goodness Bob answered that one. It was a guy saying he was going to repossess our car and wanted us to know ... it seemed so awful to do it Christmas Eve. I guess he thought so too, for not much later, he came back and handed us a big ham.
Sometime later that night, Bob saw some men outside the big front window. He went out as I stood by the open door. He was talking to the men who were pulling a big red wagon, loaded with packages and assorted foods that were sent by the Mormon people on our street. In addition, that was how Bob got the job working at Dilworth School.
I would never have believed it if I had not experienced it myself. It is one of the miracles of the season that bring joy to those less fortunate than themselves.
Happy holidays to all those Nevadans who helped us that long ago Christmas.
Arma McCusker is a 10-year resident of Carson City, moving from Reno where she worked for Ross Photo. She loves both photography and writing.
