Our mothers told us we could go out back to the horse barn, but only on one condition:
“Do not climb up to the loft and jump down onto the haystack. There may be snakes, or mice, or even a pitchfork in there.”
It was on this day, December 5th, over 60 years ago on my birthday, that my thoughts about Christmas changed forever.
The first action after our moms went into the house to prepare and put candles on the cake, Scott Lewis and Charles Turnbull climbed up to the loft and jumped onto the haystack–repeatedly.
I, of course, stayed out of the barn and away from the haystack completely.
It didn’t take long before we heard yelling. I turned around and saw Mrs. Betty Lewis, Mrs. Norma Turnbull and my momma, looking somewhat like female versions of Doc Holiday, Virgil and Wyatt Earp, walking on Tombstone Arizona’s Allen Street towards the OK Corral ready for a gun fight.
I looked behind me and saw Scott and Charles jumping down into the hay. THEY were caught and the spankings commenced!
“I told you not to do that,” my mother marched up and gave me a whack on my now 5-year-old behind.
“I didn’t even go in there. I didn’t jump in the hay,” I tried explaining with a stinging butt. “Momma, I didn’t do anything.”
Today, her words still echo in my conscience:
“Jackie, I KNOW YOU DID BECAUSE SANTA CLAUS CALLED ME AND SAID YOU DID!”
I could hear Scott and Charles both screaming from their spankings as I tried to grasp what my mother said during two more swipes on my hind end.
Why would Santa Claus lie to my Momma? If he truly saw me, then he knew I didn’t do it.
Later, I was so mad about what Santa said, that I wanted nothing to do with blowing out five candles on the cake.
Rrr=
Dad let my mom and me out (she was pregnant with my very soon-to-be baby sister Bobbi Jeanne–born January 3, 1960), then met us at the front door after he parked the car.
It was the biggest store (even larger than Sears on Military Drive) I had ever been in. When Dad came in, he led us to the elevator–a first for me. A Christmas Fairy pushed a button and up we went to the 4th floor.
As we approached Fantasyland, a bear sitting in a tree greeted me with “Hi Cowboy! What’s your name? Roy Rogers?”
It was a joyful and surreal experience. Except perhaps on TV’s Captain Kangaroo, I had never seen an animal talk before.
My parents gleefully walked me through the enchantment of various Christmas scenes and let me ride a train. After the train ride, they led me to a green carpet where there was a line of children with their folks standing for something.
After some minutes, the line curved around to a beautiful Christmas tree, and next to it was a big throne like chair with, of all people, Santa Claus sitting in it.
“OH NO!” I yelled. “I’m not going up there. He told Momma I jumped in the hay, and I didn’t.”
It was years later that my mother told me how guilty she felt about spanking me and telling me Santa called her on me.”
Dad, a police officer by trade, pointed his finger at that Joske’s Santa Claus and told me I had no choice.
“You are going to get on Santa Claus’s lap and get your picture with him.”
The closer I approached Santa, the more afraid I became. I likened it to the Cowardly Lion as he was summoned to move forward towards the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. He was creepy…until he gave me a piece of candy.
So I survived and went on to be a 35-year veteran Santa Claus at preschool Church, elementary school carnivals, H-E-B Foods-Drug employee events, on top of fire engines during parades, and at Fair Oaks Ranch Country Club (for almost a decade).
The original experience with Joske’s Santa in 1959 helped me have empathy, kindness, and joy when I played Santa Claus: never creepy, always jolly.
Creepy Santas
☆☆☆☆☆
IN GOD WE TRUST
Please and Thank You 😊
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CINDY LEAL MASSEY, TEXAS AUTHOR INFO
Clever Journeys 
Ha! Great story. Very funny pictures, all those creepy Santa’s and terrified children! 🙂
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Well, let’s see, you packed a whole lot in this one! First, if the computer would let me, I would triple- like this. It’s almost a perfect picture of how people get a warped idea of God. Some of those Santas do look creepy! Great shots of screaming kids and resigned Santas who are probably tired out, too. And Happy Birthday Jack! This means I’m five months older than you, ha ha. Loved the barn part. When I was a kid, we would go visit my best friend’s house, and we always, always, jumped down in the hayloft onto to they haystacks. (Never told my mother!) This brought it all back. You and Dodie make a perfect Mr. and Mrs. Claus. It’s in the eyes, again; they shine.
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Ha! Ha! Thank you so very much. 🎅 🤶
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Well, I’m pretty sure the spanking I got from jumping off the barn into the haystack at our house was your fault, so not much sympathy there. But Joske’s was so awesome and I always loved Santa ❤️
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Ha! I forgot about your spanking. Merry Christmas 🎄
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In Fort Worth, we had Leonard Brothers Dept Store and in the basement, was Toyland, kid nirvana and heaven in one package. I thought Santa was a bit creepy and the beard was fake and he wore makeup, and was a bit underfed. My little sister was scared into a coma by Santa, who she called “Ho-Ho.” My mother got her on his lap maybe twice and it didn’t end well. I gave him my list in under ten-seconds and was on my way to ride the rocket train monorail around the ceiling for the rest of our visit. Yeah, my mother pulled that “Santa and the elves” stuff on me too, and it worked every time. I became a saint around the end of October until Christmas morning, then it was back to the usual terrorizing the neighborhood.
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Saint Phil 🎄
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