MEMORIES OF A CATCOTT CHRISTMAS
I work downtown, and in recent decades there have been many
changes there. I can't help but remember downtown Peoria
when it was the center of our preparation for the Christmas
season. In those days, we used to get a lot of snow by
Thanksgiving weekend, and I can remember going to the Santa
Claus Parade bundled up and often very cold while I waited
for Santa to arrive in front of Block & Kuhls Department
Store. There were loud booms which got louder the closer
Santa got to his destination. The atmosphere of the cold
days and going from store to store made the anticipation of
Christmas even more festive. On many street corners the
Salvation Army Band played holiday and inspirational songs,
and Santa's helpers rang their bells. Many of the big
department stores had animated Christmas scenes that were
very impressive to me. There were also long lines of those
waiting to sit on Santa's lap, and Block and Kuhls' toy
floor also had an elaborate layout of the latest trains as
they ran quickly through a miniature villages or towns.
Some of the most happiest and warmest memories of my
childhood and life shared with my grandparents, parents,
sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins were those spent together
at Grandpa and Grandma Catcott's house on Millman
Street located in the South Side of Peoria at Thanksgiving,
and especially at Christmas time. These are memories many
years in the past, but even now when I see the frost-painted
pictures on the windows, or smell fresh baking bread, it
takes me back to those more innocent and joyful days.

By Christmas, the gifts had been bought, and we anxiously
awaited Santa's arrival. We didn't have a car, and to this
day I do not remember how we got to Grandpa and Grandma
Catcott's house. My father may have borrowed a car from
Peoria Candy Company where he worked until his death in
1957. I remember arriving on Christmas Eve as the veil of
darkness took over, and as I climbed the stairs of the front
of their porch, I could smell the wonderful aroma of baking
bread at the bakery just a few blocks away. I remember the
lights of the front room shining through the frosted
windows. We often were the first ones to arrive since others
had to come some distance to get there.
Grandpa was usually helping Grandma in the kitchen. As
I walked through the living room towards the kitchen in the
back of the house, I passed through the dining room. Grandma
always got her best lace tablecloth out for the dining room
table for the holidays. The buffet in the dining room was
laden with trays of pressed sugar cookies, anise cookies
with pressed designs of Christmas holly, bells, and deer,
divinity, and other candies. It would not be until later
that Uncle Billy made his famous bowl of Tom and Jerry Mix
for the adults, and we children had ginger ale or egg nog.
The men were always sitting in the living room sharing their
professional accomplishments or bragging about their more
recent car purchases. The women were always in the kitchen
helping, and everyone usually was talking all at once. We
cousins were all over the house amusing ourselves, and
having fun with those cousins who we had not seen, sometimes
since last Christmas. Just everyone's arriving and later
their departures took forever with all the hugging and
kissing.
In my younger years, I used to worry about Grandpa, who for
some reason, would have to leave and go to the store at the
last minute. I thought he would miss out in getting
his present from Santa. However, the door bell would soon
ring, and Santa with his very skinny body and sagging pillow
tummy and his pack flung over his shoulder would enter to
the shouts of joy of the many cousins.

Evidently, Santa
couldn't come down the chimney of a house that burned
coal. It is a wonder we all didn't have nightmares since
his Santa mask looked like something from the modern day,
Halloween movies. As my cousins and I grew older,
we figured out that Santa was really Grandpa Catcott. Then
the joy came from knowing a secret from our younger cousins.
Though Grandpa and Grandma lived on a fixed income, they
always seemed to have a little something for all of us,
cousins.
It still amazes me how we got my mother's two brothers, my
mother, her five sisters, their spouses, and all the
children in that very small house. Grandpa and Grandma's
Christmas Tree was a small one that stood proudly on a
two-tiered round table. A yearly event for me was when I
arrived early, I could lay under the table and tree, and
watch as the bubble lights slowly warmed up and began to
bubble. There was always angel hair depicting snow on the
two tiers, and a small cardboard village with houses and a
church with some figures with magnets on their feet
supposedly ice skating on mirrors depicting ice skating
rink.
Another special space in the house was Uncle Billy's room
which served also as a den. It had tall folding doors he
could close when he slept on a fold out sofa at night. He
had some wonderful treasures in his den/room. He had
wonderful large books, a globe, and a view-master with, I am
sure, every circular slide that was made for it in those
days. Uncle Billy was a watch maker who worked for many
years for Potter and Anderson, and he was a wonderful and
talented photographer.
As is with everyone's life, time passes, and people leave
our lives. Grandpa died in 1963 at the age of 89 years old,
and Grandma in 1974. Now my cousins and I have married, had
children, grandchildren, some great-grandchildren, and some
are no longer in our lives. There is not doubt, however,
that those of us who are left, as the Christmas Season
approaches, allow our memories to go back to those joyful
holidays at Grandpa and Grandma Catcott's house, and know
that we were surely blessed by those days in the South Side
of Peoria.
Submitted by: Cheryl Rimington Criss
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