. Christmas Eve and a Cigarette Load
It was Christmas 1966. Lyndon B. Johnson was our President. Although it had been a little over three years, the loss of JFK still lingered in our hearts.
I was fascinated with science fiction as a new television series had been introduced called Star Trek.
Mom was an avid book reader and was engaged in a new, non-fiction novel titled In Cold Blood, written Truman Capote. It sounded rather creepy, the plot centered on a family being murdered in Kansas. The author's name reminded me of a gangster.
Relatives came to my Grandpa's home for the evening's festivities. My mom, brother, and me lived with my grandparents. Dad and mom had been separated for a few years but not divorced. My aunt told me my dad came from a bad family, given to too much drink, and was always out to start trouble.There was bad blood between my dad's family and mom's, going way back to the days of the Depression. In fact, I didn't understand how mom and dad ever got together, yet here we were. I was excited because he was welcome to come this year and had accepted.
Dad drove in from Columbus and was very glad to see my little brother and me. He seemed to miss mom too. I can still remember how he smiled and laughed throughout the evening and mom joined him in laughter. I always loved the scent of my Dad. He carried the faint scent of a bar with the various smells of liquor, perfumes, cigarettes, and most of all...the bar food. Bar food was simply the best! Pork tenderloin or meatloaf sandwiches, fries, and coleslaw or macaroni salads, comes to mind.
That year I had come up with an idea for a Christmas Eve gift, yet, like many ideas I had during childhood, I failed to think ideas through.
As Dad arrived, he brought a great gift for my brother and I. It was an official Lionel train set! State of the art! The train included a locomotive, a Pennsylvania caboose, boxcars, and even an auto-loader. We had little evergreen trees, benches, and a depot to decorate the landscape surrounding the layout. We cleared a large space on the hardwood floor in the family room to lay out the the tracks and admire all the parts that came with the train set. Dad sat on the floor and began patiently reading the directions out loud as he added one track to another.
In those days everyone smoked cigarettes. It was encouraged by celebrities, endorsed by sports heroes, and accepted by many. Dad smoked Salem menthol, yet chose Kool menthol if Salem's were not available. I knew this because I had been sent to the local carry-out on my bicycle to pick up cigarettes for my dad and other relatives numerous times in the past. ID's were not required. Besides, the owners of the carry-out knew my family and where I lived.
I remember once asking Father Gil after mass if smoking was wrong. I thought he would be the right guy to ask because he was a smoker himself. I will never forget his reply, "Well, the way I see it, we might as well smoke down here because I don't think we will be able to smoke up there." Yet, on this Christmas Eve in '66, smoking a cigarette was about to take on a different meaning.
Late in the fall, around Halloween, I was introduced to a product on the market I had never seen. It was my friend's older brother who introduced this item to me and was a type of gag gift called a "cigarette load." The idea was to plant this small item (approx. one inch in length and one half inch in diameter), into the fresh tobacco of a cigarette. As the cigarette is lit and enjoyed, this cigarette load within the burning tobacco, would cause the cigarette to explode and the residuals float into the air. Normally a kind of muffled "bang" would accompany the explosion. (Note: cigarette loads were banned from the market the following year.)
On this Christmas Eve night, dad sat on the hardwood floor and finished putting our new train set together. I had put a load into his cigarette (without him knowing,) and shortly after, about the third puff, his cigarette exploded. It actually produced a much louder sound than I had anticipated and it was in that moment my gift to dad took a twist I didn't think about.
Small pieces of tobacco leaves that reminded me of snow flakes floated harmlessly in the air gently landing on dad's shirt. The entire family room had become much like the Christmas poem describes, "not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."
The Lionel train set dad had just finished setting up, was in numerous pieces and dispersed in various areas of the hardwood floor. Dad lifted himself from the wreckage, and looked around in utter amazement. Only a few minutes before he had been explaining to me some details about the train set. Now, that conversation seemed light years away. Grandpa offered dad a shot of Kessler's whiskey.
Dad, along with his four brothers, fought in WWII. He spent over eight years in the military including re-enlisting for the Korean conflict. Yet, on this night, as dad explained later, received the biggest scare of his entire life.
Mom was the first to speak. She looked at dad, making sure he was okay as she helped him stand up. She spoke loudly with a shrill in her voice, "What in the world happened? Was there some type of fuel in those little train cars? They shouldn't have that sort of thing in toy trains!" Dad assured everyone he was fine. He simply said "I didn't see that coming, it scared the shit out of me!" Dad turned to mom, "No hon, there was no fuel in the train cars."
Then, all eyes turned toward me.
Tears were already running down my cheeks and I just wanted to get up and run to my room. Dad saw I was the one scared now and wrapped his right arm around me. He said to me " Are you wanting me to have a heart attack? This is one hell of a Christmas present." I really started to sob and explained to Dad it was suppose to be a funny surprise. The whole room lightened up as I described the entire story. Grandpa said "Well thank God no one is hurt. It was an innocent thing that happened." Laughter began to fill the room. Dad still had his arm around me.
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