The Christmas of 1932
BY JIM STILES
This
time of year, I always think of my grandfather. He died many years ago;
in fact,
more time has passed since his death than the years I was able to spend with him. Yet,
there is scarcely a day that passes that I do not think of Grandpa. He was born in Concor-
dia, Kansas in 1882, the oldest of six children and, as a boy, once saw Wyatt Earp; yet he
lived to see men walk on the moon. He used to tell me he'd lived the best part of America
and I think he was probably right.
more time has passed since his death than the years I was able to spend with him. Yet,
there is scarcely a day that passes that I do not think of Grandpa. He was born in Concor-
dia, Kansas in 1882, the oldest of six children and, as a boy, once saw Wyatt Earp; yet he
lived to see men walk on the moon. He used to tell me he'd lived the best part of America
and I think he was probably right.
Frank
Montfort was not a great success; at least in the way most of us
measure it these
days. He never made a lot of money and he never acquired any fame. In fact, he struggled
to make a living throughout much of the Depression and at one point, very briefly, when
he'd hit rock bottom, could only find comfort in a bottle of whiskey. But he overcame all
that, driven by his own pride and his love for his family.
days. He never made a lot of money and he never acquired any fame. In fact, he struggled
to make a living throughout much of the Depression and at one point, very briefly, when
he'd hit rock bottom, could only find comfort in a bottle of whiskey. But he overcame all
that, driven by his own pride and his love for his family.
For
me, Frank Montfort, my grandfather, remains my personal hero. He was
fair-mind
ed without being judgmental, honest without being opinionated...and his love was uncon
ditional. As a teenager I was in and out of trouble from time to time, and my rebellious
attitude was not all that well received within my fam
ily. But my grandfather's support never wavered. He
would smile and put his arm on my shoulder and say,
"Jim, I don't always understand you, but I love you
and I'm behind you 10096." It's amazing how much
those few words can mean. I miss my grandfather a lot.
ed without being judgmental, honest without being opinionated...and his love was uncon
ditional. As a teenager I was in and out of trouble from time to time, and my rebellious
attitude was not all that well received within my fam
ily. But my grandfather's support never wavered. He
would smile and put his arm on my shoulder and say,
"Jim, I don't always understand you, but I love you
and I'm behind you 10096." It's amazing how much
those few words can mean. I miss my grandfather a lot.
Recently,
on a trip home, I found some journals
that my grandfather had kept for almost 20 years,
buried in the bottom of his cedar chest. We had not
known they existed. The family read his entries cover
to cover, and what struck us all was the absence, in all
those years, of any unkind sentiment toward anyone-
-not even my crazy Aunt Elizabeth with the blue hair.
He was incapable of it.
that my grandfather had kept for almost 20 years,
buried in the bottom of his cedar chest. We had not
known they existed. The family read his entries cover
to cover, and what struck us all was the absence, in all
those years, of any unkind sentiment toward anyone-
-not even my crazy Aunt Elizabeth with the blue hair.
He was incapable of it.
At
Christmas I remember this story about my
grandparents and my mother during a particularly
rough winter more than 70 years ago. Most of what
follows is true...
grandparents and my mother during a particularly
rough winter more than 70 years ago. Most of what
follows is true...
My
mother was only five years old in the cold and
bitter winter of 1932. It was bitter for more reasons
than the freezing temperatures and early snowfalls
that fell upon the Ohio River Valley. For twenty-five
million Americans, one-third of the work force. There
were no jobs and no prospect for work. Families that
just a few years earlier had been a part of the nation's
safe and secure middle class, now found themselves
homeless and hungry. My mother's father, my grand
father, was one of the unemployed.
bitter winter of 1932. It was bitter for more reasons
than the freezing temperatures and early snowfalls
that fell upon the Ohio River Valley. For twenty-five
million Americans, one-third of the work force. There
were no jobs and no prospect for work. Families that
just a few years earlier had been a part of the nation's
safe and secure middle class, now found themselves
homeless and hungry. My mother's father, my grand
father, was one of the unemployed.
A
few weeks earlier, Franklin Roosevelt had been elected President and he
had prom
ised a New Deal for Americans. In a few weeks he would tell his fellow citizens that "the
only thing they had to fear was Fear itself." For now, however, there was the basic fear of
hunger and cold and hopelessness.
ised a New Deal for Americans. In a few weeks he would tell his fellow citizens that "the
only thing they had to fear was Fear itself." For now, however, there was the basic fear of
hunger and cold and hopelessness.
Sue
(my mother's name) often overheard the grim conversations between her
parents
and it scared her. How was he going to keep food on the table, my grandfather would ask
my grandmother, and she would softly reassure him, "You'll find a way, Frank." Sue asked
her father why they were poor; he smiled wanly and tried to explain, "It's the Depression,"
he said. "Everybody's poor."
and it scared her. How was he going to keep food on the table, my grandfather would ask
my grandmother, and she would softly reassure him, "You'll find a way, Frank." Sue asked
her father why they were poor; he smiled wanly and tried to explain, "It's the Depression,"
he said. "Everybody's poor."
That helped a little. At least her family wasn't alone. But the Depression? It was hard to
explain to a five year old.
explain to a five year old.
As
the month of December and the Christmas season approached, Frank and
Susan
and Sue Montfort could be thankful that they still had their home, that they'd canned
many vegetables from their summer garden for the winter, and that they were all healthy.
But job prospects were grim and the family's savings were almost depleted. While window
shopping on Fourth Street, Sue had eyed a red checkered dress at Stewart's Dry Goods.
But her mother dampened her hopes—Santa was having a bad year too, she explained.
There may not be many presents under the tree. My grandfather feared there might not
and Sue Montfort could be thankful that they still had their home, that they'd canned
many vegetables from their summer garden for the winter, and that they were all healthy.
But job prospects were grim and the family's savings were almost depleted. While window
shopping on Fourth Street, Sue had eyed a red checkered dress at Stewart's Dry Goods.
But her mother dampened her hopes—Santa was having a bad year too, she explained.
There may not be many presents under the tree. My grandfather feared there might not
even be a tree. Or a turkey. Nothing. It was that tight.
One
afternoon, Frank decided to take a walk. Somehow he felt better when he
was mov
ing, for when he sat, he thought. He thought about his family's dilemma and his inability
to change it. So, wrapped in a worn wool overcoat, he shoved his hands deep in the coat's
pockets and moved briskly up Birchwood to Frankfort Ave.
ing, for when he sat, he thought. He thought about his family's dilemma and his inability
to change it. So, wrapped in a worn wool overcoat, he shoved his hands deep in the coat's
pockets and moved briskly up Birchwood to Frankfort Ave.
Frankfort
Avenue was the commercial center of the Crescent Hills section of
Louis
ville. Its sidewalks were lined with small shops and markets, although many of them were
closed and boarded up. As he watched the lined and worried faces of the people he passed,
my grandfather stifled the urge to sink into self-pity. He knew he had no right to feel vic
timized for he was surrounded by other victims. He was not alone.
ville. Its sidewalks were lined with small shops and markets, although many of them were
closed and boarded up. As he watched the lined and worried faces of the people he passed,
my grandfather stifled the urge to sink into self-pity. He knew he had no right to feel vic
timized for he was surrounded by other victims. He was not alone.
For
that reason, Frank almost felt guilty when he was suddenly confronted
with a stroke
of remarkable good luck. He had just passed beneath the marquee of the old Crescent
Theatre when a man appeared behind the ticket window of the box office. The man was
holding a small cardboard sign. In crude handwritten letters it said: HELP WANTED.
of remarkable good luck. He had just passed beneath the marquee of the old Crescent
Theatre when a man appeared behind the ticket window of the box office. The man was
holding a small cardboard sign. In crude handwritten letters it said: HELP WANTED.
For
a long moment my grandfather could scarcely
believe his eyes or good fortune before he ran inside. In
a few minutes, Frank Montfort was the new ticket col
lector at the Crescent Theatre. He glanced through the
ticket window and saw a dozen faces fall as the man
ager removed the "help wanted" sign. He knew that a
matter of seconds could have changed everything, and
he could have been on the outside looking in. But he
wisely decided not to flog himself too severely for his
good fortune. After all, he'd been recently plagued by
nothing but bad news—he could go home today with
a smile on his face.
believe his eyes or good fortune before he ran inside. In
a few minutes, Frank Montfort was the new ticket col
lector at the Crescent Theatre. He glanced through the
ticket window and saw a dozen faces fall as the man
ager removed the "help wanted" sign. He knew that a
matter of seconds could have changed everything, and
he could have been on the outside looking in. But he
wisely decided not to flog himself too severely for his
good fortune. After all, he'd been recently plagued by
nothing but bad news—he could go home today with
a smile on his face.
In
reality, Frank was happier than he had a right
to be. The job was nothing permanent; he was hired
only for a week to help out during the Christmas
rush. And the job paid twenty dollars. Twenty bucks.
But that amount of cash could go a long way in 1932.
He could get a turkey and all the side-dishes that go
with it to make a proper Christmas dinner. He could
afford a tree, and maybe if he was very careful, still
have enough money left over to get that red checkered
dress.
to be. The job was nothing permanent; he was hired
only for a week to help out during the Christmas
rush. And the job paid twenty dollars. Twenty bucks.
But that amount of cash could go a long way in 1932.
He could get a turkey and all the side-dishes that go
with it to make a proper Christmas dinner. He could
afford a tree, and maybe if he was very careful, still
have enough money left over to get that red checkered
dress.
My
grandfather brought the news home to his wife
and daughter, and the next day he started work at the
theatre. Collecting tickets at a movie matinee did not
exactly challenge Frank's intellect, but it never even
occurred to him to complain. He was grateful just to
be there and the days passed quickly. On the morning
of Christmas Eve, the manager called him into the office,
and daughter, and the next day he started work at the
theatre. Collecting tickets at a movie matinee did not
exactly challenge Frank's intellect, but it never even
occurred to him to complain. He was grateful just to
be there and the days passed quickly. On the morning
of Christmas Eve, the manager called him into the office,
and handed him a crisp $20 bill. Whether
the theatre would need additional help after Christ-
mas depended on the crowds the manager explained, and he added---stay in touch.
My grandfather nodded, shook the man's hand, and put the bill in his coat pocket.
mas depended on the crowds the manager explained, and he added---stay in touch.
My grandfather nodded, shook the man's hand, and put the bill in his coat pocket.
There
was an extra bounce in his step as Frank walked briskly down Frankfort
Ave. His
sister Louise and her husband Ham planned to stop by the house later. Ham and Louise
had a car, and with their help, Frank and Susan hoped to find a turkey, a tree and that
special Christmas dress for Sue.
sister Louise and her husband Ham planned to stop by the house later. Ham and Louise
had a car, and with their help, Frank and Susan hoped to find a turkey, a tree and that
special Christmas dress for Sue.
As
he prepared to cross the street to Birchwood Avenue, Frank passed a man
standing
alone by a lamppost. His face was dirty and unshaven, his clothes were in tatters. His
hands were wrapped in rags. Clutched in his fingers was a pint of Kentucky bourbon, a
cheap brand, and as my grandfather walked in front of him, the man tried to hide the
bottle. My grandfather looked away; Frank knew that had the breaks gone differently, the
man could just as easily have been him. Again.
alone by a lamppost. His face was dirty and unshaven, his clothes were in tatters. His
hands were wrapped in rags. Clutched in his fingers was a pint of Kentucky bourbon, a
cheap brand, and as my grandfather walked in front of him, the man tried to hide the
bottle. My grandfather looked away; Frank knew that had the breaks gone differently, the
man could just as easily have been him. Again.
Mother
and daughter were waiting when Frank appeared around the corner. He was
al
most running when he hit the front steps. Susan lifted the hat from his head and brushed
off the snow that was just beginning to fall. Frank smiled and reached into his coat pock
et...
most running when he hit the front steps. Susan lifted the hat from his head and brushed
off the snow that was just beginning to fall. Frank smiled and reached into his coat pock
et...
"I'd better turn this over to you before ...."
984 BARRET AVE LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY! 502.583.3447
"Still only 1531 miles from Moab!"
For a good time call Patty "The Instigator" at 502-821-8888
or email her Patty@lynnsparadisecafe.com to plan your next celebration!
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