by Nancy Christofferson
HUERFANO — If you regularly observe your Christmas holiday in a relatively offbeat way, don’t worry, that particular activity you chose to enjoy may not have all that odd. Huerfano County, it seems, has come very unusual ideas about how the day, 0and the entire holiday should be observed/ Boxing? Eating TV dinners? Shooting matches? Dancing? Masquerade parties? Hunting rabbits? Don’t worry, Huerfanos have tried them all.
Back in the 1870s and ’80s, Christmas was deeply intertwined with the religious traditions, as was the point, but it didn’t end there. As had already become traditional, Christmas was aimed toward the young, with gift-giving paramount. At some point during the holiday, a church service of some type would take place, always with hymns and carols, sometimes with poems and skits. After the serious stuff was taken care of, however, these folks had no football on television to divert them, so they had to devise their own time killers.
Many of the planned activities had been in the works for quite a while, and were meticulously planned, talked about and looked forward to. One of the most exciting events, at least for the little ones, was the arrival of Santa Claus. How Santa got to Huerfano County before the railroad arrived is unknown – Rudolph and his cohorts, perhaps – but once trains started arriving in our midst, his appearance became one of the most exciting events of the season when he stepped off one. Kids, adults, grandparents, cowboys, sheepherders, sales clerks, town and county officials and their dogs all showed up at the depot for the big spectacle. Sometimes, an organization like the Knights of Columbus or Jaycees would usher him into Walsenburg with a parade. After all, Santa Claus was the first big “star” most of the children, and some of their parents, had ever seen in person, and he’d come to their own hometown! Just to visit them! With goodies!
So when the local newspaper announced Santa would arrive at “Three minutes to four” next Saturday afternoon on the Colorado and Southern passenger train, every child and their parents would be gathered on the platform to greet him. Sometimes, he’d visit on a weekday, necessitating the dismissal of all classes that afternoon – even at the high school. While in town, he’s also make a few Main Street appearances and always was present for a special kids matinee at the movie house to personally visit with each child for his wish list and to give him a bag each of mixed fruit and nuts and of candy. On extra-special trips, he’d give out toys.
It’s possible that the 1930s showcased the height of Christmas fever (or fervor) locally. In 1938 the paper noted the preparations were “the most beautiful this city has ever seen.” The season had “officially” opened December 6 and the comment followed a less happy event, “some ignorant half-wit stole the Christmas decorations from the courthouse”. That year, two huge trees in the main intersections of the city, Main with Sixth and Seventh, had been erected, with highway department approval of course, and lights and smaller trees lit up the rest of downtown. Santa came in on the 12:43 passenger Saturday, as had become standard. School classes, choirs, and bands added their voices and merry sounds to the atmosphere, indoors and out, and the merchants had gone all out to attract shoppers and sightseers. In that year, in the deepest, darkest days of the Depression, were receding, happy days were indeed here again, or at least, better days were back. Merchants reported up to 30 percent better sales than the previous year. The next year was even better because a Christmas snowstorm broke a seven-month drought. Naturally, in 1938 not much press was given to the polio patients or the diphtheria epidemic.
1932 had been interesting, too. For a little variety, Santa and the free movie were highlighted by a “Little Orphan Annie Party”. While we don’t get many details of this, we do know Annie was not the feature attraction – the movie of the year was Zane Gray’s “Wild Horse Mesa”. The sponsors, the World-Independent, Fox Valencia Theater, Sporleder Selling Company and Rotary Club, donated plenty of treats to supplement the Red Cross boxes routinely distributed during those lean years. The Red Cross went further to serve a “real Christmas” dinner to “120 tots” in the Seventh Street School, which the servers feared “might be the only Christmas dinner they will get,” while 76 little boys got free haircuts thanks to the barber’s union.
If the arrival of Santa attracted large and enthusiastic crowds, imagine the din inside the theater as more than 1,100 children packed in, even for George O’Brien in “The Last Trail”, though of course the added feature of a Shirley Temple film and even a cartoon must have helped. For all those children who usually didn’t have a nickel to spare for the frivolity of watching fantasies, this was a Christmas miracle indeed.
Compare all this to 50 years later, in the ’80s. Special attractions like Santa Claus’s Workshop, put on by the St. Mary School PTA, was an enjoyable side trip, as was the living nativity scene enacted by “local people and animals” (good, no foreign cows!) Alas, Christmas Day 1980 it was 71 degrees, negating the joy of that new sled or pair of skates, but no doubt giving those with new bikes great pleasure. There was no snow in ’81 either, delaying the (latest) grand opening of Panadero Ski resort, which had several “grand” openings. The living nativity was again a favorite feature but the best news the county had was a healthy treasury due to the millions pouring in from Atlantic Richfield’s taxes. And, on December 23, the ski area finally opened, and had 300 skiers per day for the holiday week.
A Christmas Eve storm hit in ’82, which delighted children but depressed almost everyone else when it was discovered a popular rural mail carrier had gone missing in it. The stranded travelers who filled motels in the city were welcome gifts though those camping in churches, government offices, and other spontaneous shelters may not have been. That same year, very unwelcome vandals caused $2,000 worth of damage to Walsenburg’s holiday lighting, and that snowstorm left enough to still be seriously plowed a week later.
Christmas of 1985 brought happy news about the proposed vet’s home for Walsenburg and despite no Christmas snows, the city had received some 16 inches of precipitation that year so this was not a heartbreaker, just a disappointment. For ’86, the city had received more than 20 inches of moisture AND a decrease in the mill levy – happy holidays for sure! Again, in ’88, action and promises made for a merry Christmas with the new hospital-nursing home actually being funded and the Scenic Highway of Legends task force being taken seriously enough to be discussed in the legislature. Unfortunately, Gardner’s beloved – and only – store, the Agnes, burned down.
By 1990, that same legislature had rejected all the bids received for the promised hospital-vets home, and the ski area had been closed. Not such happy news. But the next year brought construction for the hospital and a thoughtful letter to Santa from one little boy named Robbie, asking for “peace in the world and make the air better.” A less moving message to Santa that holiday was “TIPSY TOWER. GIGLE W?” Or maybe it was inspiring, somehow?
1993 brought good tidings. City employees got a $50-a month raise, the hospital not only opening but became Huerfano Medical Center, and the ski resort was busy. Another extra was the recognition of the identity of the veterans home and the increase of 29 percent in the city’s collection of sales taxes. The scheduled groundbreaking for the new minimum security prison the next month was cheering but a special gift for Huerfano County in ’95 was the establishment of the 911 system.
Ensuing years have dimmed some of these earlier happy thoughts, but here we are, 25 years later, still plugging along. Joy is where you make it.
What will be the highlight of 2023 and its holiday season? Whatever, have a merry Christmas and may your wishes come true.
