Some historical Christmases in the Wet Mountain Valley

As the year comes to a close, the subject of Christmases past again wanders into private thoughts, family conversations and meditative remembrances. It seems fitting, therefore, to encore last year’s tour of the Valley’s past through the Wet Mountain Tribune archives, in quest of Christmas holiday reporting. Arbitrarily, but not capriciously, we chose to roam the editions published during the turn of the century, 1900 to 1901, and then took another look at the influenza years, 1918-1920, this time with an eye to how conventional Christmas joy and hope were observed in the acknowledgement of a horrific war and of a horrific pandemic.

The first matter that leapt off the pages at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century was the rough and tumble “Old West” flavor of life in the Valley. On December 22, 1900, in a two sentence article, an anonymous Tribune writer opined, “Our town will soon be filled with tin horns and sports of that character. If our town marshal doesn’t have something to occupy his attention, and exercise his physical ability and that very soon, we will be very much mistaken.”

Whatever would occasion such a comment? There are some clues in the following two entries, the first from December 22, and the second, from December 29:

“Last Sunday evening much rowing and considerable fighting was indulged in at a drinking place on Custer Avenue. Fortunately no person was seriously injured. Sunday rowing by night or day should not be tolerated by our town authorities.” The implication here is that “rowing and considerable fighting” were a matter of course on week- days, but the Sabbath ought to be a time out for such bellicose shenanigans. Christmas was on a Tuesday that year, and sure enough, “Christmas afternoon a street row occurred on Second Street in which two railroad gangs mixed up. Quite a number of men were knocked down and kicked about for a short time. For a while the street presented the appearance of having a spirited football game underway. No serious injuries were received by any of the contending parties.” The good old days, eh?

Otherwise the Tribune noted an array of parties, dances, folks travelling in and out of the Valley, and assorted good cheer. One eerily recognizable dynamic from the perspective of 2020 however, is this December 29, 1900 comment: “There is one thing very peculiar that we have noticed since the late election and that is that those persons who were so rabidly opposed to the election of Mr. McKinley to the presidency as to threaten the great calamity to the community of moving out of the country should he be successful, are yet holding their citizenship in this section, and somehow or other eking out an existence.” The 1900 presidential election was a repeat of 1896; the “persons” referred to would have been supporters of the again defeated Democrat, William Jennings Bryan. Bryan however, had carried Colorado by six and a half to one over McKinley. A contentious time…

During the tumultuous years 1918-1920, a poignant Tribune article on December 27, 1918 wrapped up both war and illness in a mixed metaphor comment on Christmas weather: “After a bombardment of a week or so with snowflakes no larger than flu germs, the sun came out nice and clear on Tuesday morning. The storm deposited from eight to more than twelve inches of snow around over the county. Mercury has been pretty low, the government thermometer at the forest office registering 17 below on Tuesday morning and, on Christmas morning 19 below, the coldest of the season.” The Christmas seasons of those influenza-ridden years were marked by appeals for the purchase of Christmas Seals, support of the Red Cross and a desire to “put a gift into the hands of each of the 320, 000,000 now relatives of America—related by the ties of war and mutual future interests… Uncle Sam as Santa Claus to the fatherless and the widowed, the bereaved and the financially ruined of Europe will need much help. He will need every citizen of America back of him. Remember the biggest gift we have to send: food— twenty million tons of it. How much food are you saving toward your Christmas present to Europe ?” Patriotism within a Christmas context seemed particularly global then, as the list of nations to be supported included “red Russia,” Belgium, France, Italy, and even “Germany for all the harm she hath wrought.”

There were already laments then about traditions fading away, as this December 19, 1919 article indicates: “The custom of carol singing out of doors at Christmas time seems to be dying out. This is a great pity, for carols are a branch of folk music, the unconscious art of the peasant mind, a heritage of inestimable worth…The Christmas carol dates from the birth of Christianity itself, the angels having sung their carols at the birth of Jesus Christ Among the early Christians carols were sacred hymns—representing Christ’s nativity. Now the name is given to a variety of popular metrical compositions from the simple record of the birth of our Lord to rude wassail songs, and rhymes of holiday revelry…Of late years some of the churches—chiefly in the larger cities—have held Christmas carol services during the Christmas season. This is an excellent movement and might profitably be taken up by churches all over the country. Certainly if the churches can restore this old custom it will add to the enjoyment of the season.”

The year previously though, the Tribune had taken great pains to publish a hugely traditional piece, and we can’t help ourselves—we reprint it in its entirety:

“For hundreds of years goose has been an important conventional Christmas dinner dish. Select a young, tender goose, for its palatability greatly depends on this, one weighing about eight or ten pounds, says an experienced house- keeper. For the dressing take four cupfuls of hot mashed potatoes, two and one half tablespoonfuls of finely chopped onions, one cupful of English walnut meats chopped moderately fine; one and one-half teaspoonfuls of salt, one half of four eggs and a teaspoonful of sage. Stuff the body with the dressing and sew up the opening. Bring the legs and wings close to the body and tie with a white string, which must be removed just before serving. Put the goose in the dripping pan with two cupfuls of boiling water and roast for nearly two hours, according to size of fowl, basting often and freely. Remove the goose to a hot platter, pour off the oil in the pan and make a gravy with flour that has been browned. Always serve apple sauce with roast goose. Select juicy, tart apples and pare, slice and stew with just enough water to keep from burning. When done , rub them through a sieve und add sugar to taste.” Maybe those were the good old days after all…

Notices of grand Christmas balls with live music, parties, sermon titles, and the promotion of shopping local stores for gifts, ornaments, candles and decorations were scattered throughout the season’s issues in those years; certainly the latter remains today.

We close out our perusal with two lighter pieces, the first a parody written by an unknown wit on the Tribune staff on January 2, 1920:

“ ‘Tis the day after Christmas,

And all through our head

Not a thought is a-stirring—

Our think tank’s gone dead!

Our liver it’s sluggish,

There ‘s a crimp in our spleen,

Our eyes they are bleary,

Our complexion light green.

We ate too much turkey,

We got too little sleep,

We gobbled plum pudding

sunk in sauce a foot deep.

Did we have a merry Christmas?

Well, we’ll say we did!

But we’re unfit for labor,

There’s a strike ‘neath our lid!”

And let this December 22, 1900 Tribune entry be our December 2024 cheerful address to our readers, still:

“In lieu of any extended remarks concerning the coming and going of Christmas, or as to its origin, or how it should be observed, we content ourselves with saluting our million and half readers with the time honored and somewhat stale wish: A happy, merry, joyous Christmas to all. Only for our limited space, we would indulge in the use of a Christmas poem , but then—but then—ah , but then…”

W.A. Ewing