Keeping the Story Alive: Santa Comes to Cedar Hill

J. Mark Lowe

With all the great food on the table for the holidays, it was sometimes really hard for a youngster to go to bed. With new toys on the floor, playing was the priority at the moment, not sleeping. Someone would mention that if Santa came, and we were not in bed, he would just skip our house and leave our toys with the next family. So, reluctantly, I headed off to my designated floor pallet for the evening. Of course, all the adults kept talking, which made it very difficult to roll over and just go to sleep. Eventually, it would happen.

I woke up during the night. I didn’t know what time it was, but it was completely dark and quiet. I thought I would go to the bathroom and determine if I would peek and see if Santa had arrived yet. As I went to the bathroom, I saw my Uncle Kenny coming out of the bathroom. I asked him,” Has Santa been here yet?” He said he didn’t think Santa had made his rounds here yet, and that I should rush right back to sleep. “You don’t Santa to find you awake!” was his reply. I made the return of the long walk back to my pallet. I lay and thought about the various routes that Santa took to visit all the boys and girls around the World. I remember seeing his sleigh on the radar on the 10 o’clock news before we went to bed. If he was already on the radar then, why hadn’t he made the rounds to Cedar Hill yet? Perhaps, it was cloudy or he had extra stops this year. Thinking about reasons why Santa had not arrived did not ease my mind, so I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Tick-tock – tick-tock – tick-tock – How long until it is safe to wake up again. I knew that if I got up again, I would have to go wake up my Dad to see if we could go see what Santa brought us. Was it even daylight yet? I tried to roll over into Wayne to see if he would wake up – but he just rolled over. I could see a little light coming thought the door curtains. I could go stand across the room and see where Santa has been, and just try to imagine what was by each stocking. Fortunately, our names were embellished on our stockings, so finding the right stocking across the room was even difficult. But who wants to stand in the dark of a room without being able to touch the stocking or what was by the stocking. So I ventured into my Mom and Dad’s bedroom. I walked over to my Dad, and whispered, “Dad, it is time to get up yet! Santa has been here!” He looked at me, and smiled! Yes, go back to bed for a couple of minutes and I will be there shortly.” Happy words to hear – I walked back to my pallet – punched Wayne again, and told him Dad was getting up in a minute. He rolled over and sat up. Denny popped up like a jack-in-the-box and asked “Are we getting up now!” Mom and Dad quietly came into the living room, we were out of our pallets, rolled them up, out of the way and ready to begin the important work of the day.

We usually picked up our stockings, felt of them, looked into them, and then focused on the wonderful treasures that Santa placed around our stocking. We generally received things that were simple and useful. Our parents were not extravagant, but Santa always seemed to bring the right stuff each year.

I looked at a box that was marked Sears Inside was a light blue toy typewriter. It looked very real, and it typed letters. I had asked for a typewriter. Perhaps, that seemed odd for a second grader, but I had plans. I needed a typewriter to send letters, write stories, and address the envelopes I needed to mail.

I had found a typing self-study course in the new dictionary my parents had purchased over the summer. I had practiced learning the keyboard, and doing the finger exercises the course recommended. I made a paper keyboard and pretended hitting the appropriate keys. I was ready to meet this keyboard head-on or rather, hands-on. I opened the box, removed the typewriter case, and set the case down to open the machine.

It looked just like the one in the catalog. The typewriters that I looked at did not look like the one my Great Aunt Esta Tabor had in her office in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Her office was across the street from the Warren County Kentucky Courthouse. She was a remarkable typist. I watched her type letters so quickly that it only seems to take two seconds to finish a letter. The ribbon in her machine typed blue letters instead of black. She worked for Congressman William Natcher and as a Member of Congress his correspondence was typed in blue letters. She had worked for Congressman Natcher from the time he first became an attorney and started his practice.

Visiting with Aunt Esta was always a treat, and she would occasionally help me type a few sentences. She encouraged my reading, which reminds me of another story to be told later.

So here I sit in front of my typewriter and I typed one of the sentences in the practice set "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." The typewriter responded slowly to my touch. This was going to take some time to get the feel. I got the Dictionary with the typing course and began to learn the keyboard. I was quietly involved in my new typewriter, somewhat oblivious to all that was happening around me.

Suddenly, my Dad said, “You better go get ready!” I asked him, “Can I take my typewriter to Bowling Green to show Mama Lowe?” “Not this time, now shake a leg!” So off I went to get cleaned up and get dressed to go to my grandmother’s house for Christmas.

There is a postscript to this story. I continued to use my new “toy” typewriter and went through the typing course. This typewriter wasn’t really intended to be used like the commercial models. Pressing the buttons for Caps, etc., was not very responsive and made letters appear half way up, and often below the line. I diligently worked to learn the keyboard, and carried a sample of my work sometime after the first of the year to Aunt Esta. She was impressed that I was so devoted and encouraged me to write a few stories to share.

A few days later, my Dad came home with an older typewriter he had purchased in a state surplus sale. I continued to use that typewriter for most school projects and term papers until I bought a new electric typewriter in college. Thank you, Dad, for helping me get those words on paper.