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TILL Christmas

on Chicago's Southside

By Saja Bo StormPublished 2 years ago 6 min read
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TILL Christmas
Photo by Marina Khrapova on Unsplash

Christmas in Chicago’s Southside in the fifties sparkled with multicolored lights. In the background, the sound of Nat king Cole's The Christmas Song wafted from the radios of many of the black-owned businesses in the neighborhood. Most of the proprietors and residents migrated from the South in search of a place where they and their children could prosper like other Americans. Segregation still existed in the North, but they knew that the move would bring them to a place where they stood a chance at achieving the American dream. The fresh smell of pine permeated from the full green wreaths donned with large red bows. Tinsel, shiny gold and silver stars and round crystal shaped ornaments hung from the ceilings of the neighborhood barbers, beauty salons, tailors and other establishments. The friendly owners handed out sweet hard ribboned Christmas candy to the young children who hung on tightly to their parent’s hands as they passed through the stores buying their last-minute Christmas gifts. Across town, Bobo led his group of friends out into the fresh, cold air. His laughter broke through the frosty climate and his frosty chuckles made everyone laugh. He waved at his other classmates shouting, “Have a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you all next year!” Bobo was chubby and his personality warmed people over and he had lots of friends because he loved making people laugh. He also liked to participate in small pranks. Bobo, Richard, Cooksie and Ronnie were 7th graders at James McCosh Elementary School located on the West Woodlawn area of Chicago. The winters were cold in Chicago and the teens were bundled up in winter coats, furry hats and gloves. But on the inside, the boys sported crepe-soled shoes white shirts and polyester pants and the girls wore their favorite poodle flared skirts with crinoline slips underneath. A few snowflakes were falling, the wind was picking up and school had let just let out for the Christmas holiday as they hurried through the neighborhood over to Bobo's house. Bobo and his mom lived in a modest middle-class neighborhood. Their home was comfortable and cozy. The teens were eager to listen to their favorite music from the Moonglows, the Coasters, the Flamingos and the Spaniels. When they gathered in the living room, the boys tried to imitate the singing groups and had lots of fun trying to croon in doo-wop style harmony. The girls spun around to the music as they danced watching their skirts flare in hypnotic circles. To be young was surely where it was at, Rock and Roll was just beginning to spread its wings and the children had not a care in the world because Christmas was a few days away. “Hey Ma!” Bobo yelled into the kitchen, “Can we have some baloney sandwiches and grape Kool-Aid?” Mamie wiped her hands on the tea towel she pulled from off her shoulder. She had just come home from work and was extremely tired, but she smiled at her son who once said to her, ‘if you can go out and make money, I can take care of the house.’ Her son always showed a happy disposition even though he was born with Polio which left him stuttering a bit, but it didn't keep him from making everybody laugh. He loved telling jokes. He was a happy child, and everybody knew it. Even though her husband had died in World War ll, she struggled at raising him alone, but she did what she had to… he was after all the love of her life now that her husband was gone. So, a light snack for Bobo and his neighborhood friends was a small thing to ask for. When his mom brought in the sandwiches and drinks, his friends were all gathered around the Christmas tree that he and his mother had decorated last week. Most of the ornaments were passed down from generation to generation. The tree was covered with silver garland and strings of blue, red, yellow and green lights. The fat bulbs illuminated the tree nicely. At least three full boxes of icicles covered the tree. His mom always placed the icicles strand by strand, but he was too impatient, and it infuriated her when he threw gobs and handfuls of icicles onto the tree without separating them. A couple bags of angel hair covered the entirety of the tree until barely a green branch was exposed. Bobo was not fond of angel hair because if you handled it too much it would stick to you and make your skin itch. Bobo's mom wiped her hands on her apron and said to the kids as sternly as she could without smiling. “Now you kids need to finish up by four and get home before the streetlights come on. I know your parents expect you home soon.” They said in unison, “Yes ma'am, we already let them know that we were coming here today. Richard said, “You know next Christmas we'll all be in the 8th grade and getting ready to go into high school. Bobo laughed, “You’d better spend all your holiday studying if you want to join us there. No eating, no opening gifts, no nothing.” The girls burst out in laughter holding their stomachs in an unladylike fashion. “Stop with the jokes, Bobo!” Richard said although he was laughing too. Bobo walked his friends to the door waved and chuckled as they slid down the street skating on the newly fallen snow. He grabbed the mail from the mailbox and placed a few bills and handful of Christmas cards on the hall table. A Christmas card from one their relatives from Money, Ms. caught his eye. He had never visited his mom’s relatives and was curious about the place where his mother had been born. He shrugged and walked down the hall. “Hey ma, do you need me to help you with our dishes? She hadn’t heard him because she was deep in thought about the signet ring that belonged to her late husband Louis. Maybe he'll be old enough to receive it then. I'll give it to him next Christmas or maybe on his birthday this July. Bobo rushed in the kitchen; “Did you hear me? I said do you want me to wash our dishes?” “Oh, no, Emmett.” She took off her apron and hung it on the hook by the sink. “Let’s just enjoy our Christmas… the dishes can wait.” After they strolled into the living room, Emmett put on one of his mom's favorite Christmas songs by Nat King Cole. He placed the needle down gingerly on the LP which rested on his dad’s worn-out record player. They enjoyed the dancing lights of the Christmas tree as they listened to the opening lines of the song, Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Emmett and his mom cuddled together happy that Christmas would soon be here.

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