Two Santa’s, a Christmas story
December 24, 1980 a day much like today was, it was cold but not too cold about 20 below zero. My wife Lucy and daughter Cheryl and myself and our dog Star lived out on the trap line. We lived in an old frame cabin on the banks of Cripple Creek at the base of cripple Mountain 80 to 90 trail miles from McGrath. We had a small tree up and it was decorated with paper cutouts and popcorn strings. There were no gifts under the tree as there had been no airplanes for some time. We did have neighbors, The Wittenkeller’s. They lived over the hill in the other valley five miles away on Colorado creek. The Rosander’s owned the placer mine there and it had a good airfield. We knew the Wittenkeller’s, and they stayed there year round and looked after things in the off season, they had five children, the youngest at 11 months old were the twins Jennie and Joey. Occasionally we would visit and they had invited us over for thanksgiving dinner, and we had a great day and Joe and I would talk trapping and mining.
Our only connection to the outside world over on cripple was an AM radio. This of course was before our local radio station in McGrath, KSKO radio or satellites; the Internet was far off in future. With the help of an antenna booster and a long copper wire strung between two trees and into the cabin’s AM radio. With this antenna we could pick up an Anchorage radio station 300 miles away called KFQD. Our favorite show was Friday nights and was the Herb Shanedlin show, called desperate and dateless. It was the best show in town; of course it was the only show in town. We spent the day cutting firewood and hauling water. Getting water at this time of year was a chore out on the shallow creek because the creek would freeze down to the ground. We had to search for deep pools or where the creek water would push up to the surface of the ice and overflow; if the overflow was deep enough we could gather a lot of water. That was, after all Christmas Eve and a good time for a bath. We had filled every bucket, tote, barrel and tub we had and were making hot water. Our cabin was warm and cozy and we had a large barrel stove and lots of birch and spruce fire wood. Cheryl was a small baby; she had just turned one year old the month before. Lucy had given Cheryl a bath in the dishpan and we had the galvanized washtub set up just off the floor and surrounded with blankets for curtains for Lucy and myself. Lucy had taken her bath and I prepared the tub for myself. It was late evening and very dark in the valley that we were in. It was peaceful and serene. As I took my bath, Lucy was in a small bedroom with Cheryl and they were playing. As their quiet laughter drifted through the cabin mixing with the music from the radio that would fade in and out and the crackling of the fire in the wood stove made for a peaceful and calm feeling. The only other sounds were the water that I was washing with and the Coleman gas lantern making it’s light hissing sound. The room was lite with the Coleman single mantle lantern and a few flickering candles. Flickering light also came from the air vent of the barrel stove. It was a clear night and it was just a few days past the full moon. The moon would be rising over the mountain latter but it would be a while before its light would shine in the valley bottom we were in. In the winter, out away from city lights and sounds, the moon will rise over the hills and mountains casting light and reflecting off the snow so bright that you cast a shadow and all the hills are alive with light and a seemingly blueish hue shadow. As I was about done with my bath I heard off in the distance the sound of an airplane, but I did not give it much thought, I thought it was a high flyer. Soon the sound became louder and closer. I scrambled to get out of the tub and dressed, Lucy also scrambled to grab a coat and shoes to get outside. Just as we got to the door the quiet darkness was broken with the roar of a Cessna. In the dark, low over the trees in the valley in the broken silence we knew Santa had arrived. I knew Bob Mag. would not try and land on our side but would land over the hill on Colorado creek where the Wittenkeller’s lived. As I dressed for the ride over the hill to Colorado creek, Lucy hooked up the sled to the snow machine and helped me to prepare to leave. The trail over the hill was snow drifted in the willows and made for a rough ride. As I made my way up the hill out of the valley bottom the moon shown brilliant and lit the night and Cripple Mountain stood out in all its rugged beauty. I made good time though, dodging and moving around and though those drifts and willows. When I got there Bob Magnuson and Ron Rosander were still there and Ron with his white beard was dressed in an old red snowsuit. They said that they had waited all evening for Wien Air Alaska to come into McGrath and unload so they could collect all the gifts for the Wittenkeller’s and us. A number of people in McGrath had brought food and gifts to Ron and Bob for the (slay ride) to the creek. Bob knew that the moon would be up and bright for a late flight. We talked for just a few minutes. Like two Santa’s with quick witted hummer and many thanks all around, they were off. Before I left Joe and Helen made sure that I tell Lucy that we three would be back for Christmas dinner.
Such a memory of that family Christmas will stay with me until the end. Families have changed and people have passed but the memory’s stay.
I would again like to give a special thanks to Bob Magnuson, Ron Rosander and the Wittenkeller’s for making and being part of this memory