When the President Became a Firefighter on Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve of 1851 proved to be a devastating day for the Library of Congress, and the sitting U.S. President helped to save the Capitol building.

On the morning of Dec. 24, the captain of the Capitol Police discovered a fire in the Library of Congress, which was then housed in the Capitol building. The fire spread rapidly, destroying thousands of books and documents, and even some priceless paintings.

According to White House historians, President Millard Fillmore was enjoying the holidays with his family when he heard the calls of “Fire! Fire! The Library of Congress is on fire!” He rushed to join the eight fire wagons loaded with water barrels and hoses, pulled by draft horses, and he was joined by some cabinet members and members of Congress. The president also gave orders to a bucket brigade formed by Marines from the local navy yard. The bucket brigade worked until noon Christmas Day, with Fillmore at the head, “flames flickering near his thick head of snow white hair.”

At the time, the library contained about 55,000 volumes, including Thomas Jefferson’s complete library which Congress had purchased in 1815. An estimated 35,000 books were destroyed. Those saved were located in an adjoining room separated by a thick wall.

The library room was “a beautiful specimen of Corinthian architecture,” according to one newspaper description. Located in the Capitol on the same level as the houses of Congress, it was 92 feet by 34 feet, with an arched ceiling 36 feet high with three sky lights. On each side were alcoves supporting an upper gallery.

The cause of the fire was later found to be a faulty chimney, and when wood was burned in the furnaces below, sparks escaped through holes in the chimney.

But the Christmas Eve fire was not the first time the Library of Congress had been destroyed by fire. The library had been established in 1800 with an appropriation of $5,000 to purchase “such books as may be necessary for the use of Congress.” By 1814, the collection, housed in the Capitol, had grown to 3,000 volumes. They burned along with many government buildings when the British invaded the Capitol city during the War of 1812.

Retired President Thomas Jefferson offered to sell his extensive personal library to replace the Congressional Library. In January 1815, Congress and President Madison agreed to purchase 6,487 volumes for nearly $24,000. About two-thirds of those books were among the ones lost in the 1851 fire.

The new, fireproof Library of Congress room built in 1853

Recognizing the significance and importance of protecting the collection after the second fire, the Capitol architect designed and built a cast-iron structure in 18 months. Called by the press the “largest iron room in the world,” it was encircled by galleries and filled the west central front of the Capitol.

Congress initially provided funding only to replace the books lost. Over time, however, more funds were added to expand the library. Copyright law required two copies of every book published in the U.S. to be housed in the Library of Congress, so the collection grew. By the 1890s, the need for a separate, more spacious, building became evident, and on Nov. 1, 1897, the library opened in its new home.

The Thomas Jefferson building housing part of the
Library of Congress today

Today, some 170 million items held by the library include books, maps, manuscripts, photographs, films, audio and video recordings, prints and drawings. The Library now occupies not only the 1897 building, named after Thomas Jefferson, but two additional buildings on Capitol Hill, named after Presidents John Adams and James Madison.

Additionally, the Packard Campus in Culpeper, Virginia, houses the National Audio-Visual Conservation Center, a state-of-the-art facility where the Library of Congress acquires, preserves and provides access to the world’s largest and most comprehensive collection of films, television programs, radio broadcasts, and sound recordings.

The Library’s Director of Special Collections has said, “You can find answers to anything you’re curious about here. What is your question?”

Sources:

Fire ravages Library of Congress | December 24, 1851 | HISTORY

The True Story of the Fire That Destroyed the Library of Congress

What Sparked the 1851 Fire That Devastated the Library of Congress?

The White House Library: A Twice Told Tale - Our White House | Looking In, Looking Out

Library of Congress

The Other Fire at the Library of Congress

The Burning of the Library of Congress

Multi-award-winning author Marie Wells Coutu finds beauty in surprising places, like undiscovered treasures, old houses, and gnarly trees. All three books in her Mended Vessels series, contemporary stories based on the lives of biblical women, have won awards in multiple contests. She is currently working on historical romances set in her native western Kentucky in the 1930s and ‘40s. An unpublished novel, Shifting Currents, placed second in the inspirational category of the nationally recognized Maggie Awards. Learn more at www.MarieWellsCoutu.com.

When the lights of Broadway dim, Delia leaves the city behind. But will her family welcome her home again?

The historical short story, “All That Glistens,” was included in the 2023 Saturday Evening Post Great American Fiction collection and is now available free when you sign up for Marie's newsletter here. In her newsletter, she shares about her writing, historical tidbits, recommended books, and sometimes recipes. Soon she'll be sharing a historical romantic short story set in Scotland.

It Really Was a Wonderful Life

The Greatest Gift, book cover, eBay

By Kathy Kovach

Imagine you’re a 4,100-word short story titled, “The Greatest Gift: A Christmas Tale,” loosely based on the 1843 Charles Dickens novella, A Christmas Carol. Your author, Philip Van Doren Stern, envisions you the morning of February 12 in 1938 while shaving. He asks himself: What if a family man is on the verge of suicide on Christmas Eve and is rescued by a stranger who shows him what life would be like without him?

You, the little story, have a ton of potential, but nobody wants you. You’re rejected by several publishers, but your author refuses to give up. By 1943, he ultimately makes 200 copies and sends the booklets out as Christmas presents, reserving two to send to the Library of Congress and the U.S. Copyright Office.

In 1944, Stern’s eight-year-old daughter answers the home telephone. The caller asks to speak with her father. Even at that age, she fears it might be bad news regarding the war. However, it turns out to be Stern’s Hollywood agent with fantastic news. RKO Radio Pictures has just bought you, the story, for $10,000 as a vehicle for Cary Grant.

The film rights prompt a buzz, and you are published in the magazines Reader’s Scope and Good Housekeeping. The latter publishes a longer and darker version under the pseudonym, Peter Storme, and title it “The Man Who Was Never Born.” You, the original story, also find a book publisher in David McKay.

Now in RKO’s hands, three different scripts are written, but none work out for the studio. Frank Capra had recently formed a new production company, Liberty Films, and he buys the rights for $10,000. He hires a husband and wife team, Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich, to write a completely new screenplay, piecing together you, the original story, and the previous three scripts. They add backstory and additional characters. Capra sends the finished script to his longtime collaborator, actor Jimmy Stewart, who enthusiastically agrees to play the lead, George Bailey.



The film, now titled, It’s a Wonderful Life, premiers in New York City, December of 1946 with its wide release in January of 1947, eventually winning a Golden Globe for best director and receiving five Academy Award nominations. A special scientific achievement award is also captured due to the ingenious invention of artificial snow. Made from fire-extinguisher foam, sugar, water, and soap flakes, the “snow” floats naturally, and doesn’t make as much noise when walked upon as the white painted cornflakes previously used. The movie had been filmed during a heatwave in California, making realistic cold weather a challenge.

At this point, you, the now re-vamped and beautiful story, should be on top of the world, just as George Bailey is when he marries Mary and they hop in the jalopy to see the world on their honeymoon. However, darkness descends. George’s plans and dreams are squashed when he learns that the Building and Loan is in trouble.

And you, the story, become embroiled in political mayhem.

Blacklist tract

The post-war 1940s gives birth to the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), set up as a watchdog to keep communist activity at bay, particularly in Hollywood. The Blacklist becomes swollen with actors, writers, producers, etc., who may have sympathies toward the communist cause. The FBI already have their eye on Capra, as well as the writers Hackett and Goodrich. Some of the previous seven writers from RKO are also on the radar as radicals. According to the FBI, the fictional character of Mr. Potter, and his Scrooge-like tendencies, was written to discredit bankers. Their 1947 report, The Communist Infiltration into the Motion Picture Industry, also calls out George Bailey’s quest to help the “common man”, citing that it's propaganda and “communist in nature.”

Alas, the communist controversy squelches the audience’s desire to attend. Some also attribute the poor timing of a Christmas movie released in January. Another contributing factor is that post-war audiences want something lighter. It’s a Wonderful Life fails to earn back what it cost to produce the film. Box office returns disappear by way of a classic fade out, and you are doomed to be forgotten, as if you never existed.

The devastation hits so hard that Frank Capra sells Liberty films to Paramount Pictures.

American movie-goers are given the opportunity to see what the world would be like without Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life starring James Stewart and Donna Reed showing every Christmas season. They will go through the rest of the 1940s, 50s, 60s, and half of the 70s without knowing the joy of watching George and Mary’s romance. They never see them fall into the swimming pool or hear George’s offkey rendition of “Buffalo Gal Won’t You Come Out Tonight.” They never agonize over Uncle Billy’s ineptitude of losing the Building and Loan’s $8,000. And Mr. Potter? Not even a thought of him being a warped, frustrated old man. Clarence Oddbody, AS2 (Angel Second Class), remains in the heavens with Joseph and never gets his wings.

But then something miraculous happens in the mid-1970s. After being sold to several companies, the final one, National Telefilm Associates, fails to renew the copyright due to a clerical error. This error—Or is it divine intervention?—puts the rights and all the film negatives in public domain. Television stations jump on the chance to air it royalty free. Home video companies snatch it, as well, making sure every home in America has the chance to rejoice over Zuzu’s petals.

After nearly three decades, a new audience, and ultimately everyone up to this day, come to appreciate you, the little story that wouldn’t die.

And Clarence gets his wings.

Titanic: Legacy of Betrayal

A TIME-SLIP NOVEL

A secret. A key. Much was buried on the Titanic, but now it's time for resurrection.

Follow two intertwining stories a century apart. 1912 - Matriarch Olive Stanford protects a secret after boarding the Titanic that must go to her grave. 2012 - Portland real estate agent Ember Keaton-Jones receives the key that will unlock the mystery of her past... and her distrusting heart.

To buy: Amazon

Kathleen E. Kovach is a Christian romance author published traditionally through Barbour Publishing, Inc. as well as indie. Kathleen and her husband, Jim, raised two sons while living the nomadic lifestyle for over twenty years in the Air Force. Now planted in northeast Colorado, she's a grandmother and a great-grandmother—though much too young for either. Kathleen has been a longstanding member of American Christian Fiction Writers. An award-winning author, she presents spiritual truths with a giggle, proving herself as one of God's peculiar people.

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“Grandma” Agnes Paschal – Georgia Gold Rush Angel of Mercy

Pre-Civil War Hotel in Auraria

by Denise Farnsworth

My last several posts introduced the Georgia Gold Rush, offered a tour through its first boom town/ghost town of Auraria, and discussed mining methods. Today let’s focus on a beloved resident of Auraria, Agnes Paschal. Mrs. Paschal is one of several real-life characters who make an appearance in The Songbird and the Surveyor, first novel of my Twenty-Niners of the Gold Rush series. Oftentimes, I limit historical characters to brief cameo appearances. It can be difficult to confirm enough information about a person to grant them significant page time. The life of Agnes Paschal, however, was well-documented enough that she gained several conversations with my main characters in her role as healer and Baptist church leader.

Agnes was born to Burrell Brewer and Elizabeth Patrick Brewer in 1776. According to Ninety-Four Years, an account of her life penned by her son. George W., Agnes was 5’5” with fair skin, very black hair, and a sweet temperament. She received no formal education but had a good head for numbers, a love of theology, and a penchant for herbal remedies. She had no ear for music and could not dance. Her father died in 1799 and a year later, her mother. Agnes became the companion of a wealthy woman in Lexington, Georgia. There she met former soldier George Paschal, whom she married in 1802. The couple opened a tavern and a store. Doctors boarded with them and taught her medicine.

From 1811-1817, the Paschals ran an inn at the paper mill town of Scull Shoals, south of Lexington. As the War of 1812 ended, loans came due, and drought lowered the river, manufacturing efforts in the settlement waned. The couple moved to manage Bowling Green Inn in Oglethorpe County, catering to wealthy planters. George taught school. Agnes converted the owner of the racetrack for local thoroughbreds, Ferdinand Phinizy, to Methodism, and they closed the race grounds. Agnes found her calling as a healer during the outbreak of a fever that returned for three subsequent summers. She became famous for red-pepper tea,well-ventilated convalescent rooms, and her stand against leeching, bleeding, or blistering.

The Paschals raised a family and became pillars in Oglethorpe County until George’s death in 1832. Their son, George W., a lawyer, persuaded his mother to move with him to the boom town of Auraria in gold country. They purchased the Nuckolls’ hotel and tavern, tore out the bar, and made additions. They soon built a better hotel on the north end of town with signage that read, Mrs. Paschal and Sons. Former Vice President John C. Calhoun lodged with the Paschals two weeks at a time, overseeing his lucrative gold mine. His oratory drew many listeners to their porch.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Paschal went about her work of healing the body and soul. She was known to engage drunken miners in conversation that reminded them of their parents and godly raising. She collected subscriptions for a Baptist church, built so poorly of logs that it fell down the first winter of 1833-34. After that, “Grandma Paschal” opened her hotel dining room for services. When there was a fever among the people, she became known as an angel of mercy. Even when the county seat moved to Dahlonega and many residents followed, Mrs. Paschal never left Auraria. She was laid to rest in the cemetery there at the age of 94, beside her husband, whose body she’d brought from Oglethorpe County. Her children went on to notable military and political careers. George W. acted as a lieutenant in the Georgia Volunteers. He married Sarah Ridge, daughter of Cherokee Chief Major Ridge, and moved to Arkansas.

Look for further upcoming posts about the Georgia Gold Rush. Book one, The Songbird and the Surveyor, set in Auraria in 1833, is now available for purchase. A marriage of protection. A past full of pain. In Georgia's wild gold country, love might strike when it's least expected. https://www.amazon.com/Songbird-Surveyor-Twenty-Niners-Georgia-Gold-ebook/dp/B0F556951W/

Denise Farnsworth, formerly Denise Weimer, writes historical and contemporary romance mostly set in Georgia and also serves as a freelance editor and the Acquisitions & Editorial Liaison for Wild Heart Books. A wife and mother, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses.

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Lord of the White Elephants

By Suzanne Norquist

As Christmas season approaches, many of us will be invited to “white elephant” gift exchanges. The invitation may specify that guests are to find an unwanted item in their home to bring as a gift to exchange. The gifts themselves don’t have anything to do with elephants but with ancient myths.

Be aware that white elephants are not actually white, not like albinos in other animal species. They tend to be light pink instead of the typical gray. They can look white when wet. This distinction, however, didn’t diminish their value in the eyes of kings in Southeast Asia.

In Buddhist tradition, the beasts were revered as symbols of royal power and divine favor. Kings would collect them and pamper them in the royal stables. Wars were fought over them, particularly between the 1500s and the 1700s. Even today, some countries maintain a small herd.

The Thai and Burmese kingdoms fought the “elephant wars.” A couple of the kings chose to be known by the title “Lord of White Elephants.” Until 1917, the animal appeared on the national flag of Siam.

These valuable animals were seldom given as gifts, and few could afford to keep them. In 1514, Pope Leo X received a white elephant named Hanno from King Manuel of Portugal—a great honor. The Pope arranged for a special building to house the animal as part of the papal collections. Sadly, Hanno only lived a couple of years in his new home.

Stories have circulated about ancient kings giving white elephants as gifts to people they didn’t like—those they wanted to ruin. Because the animals were so expensive to keep and impossible to get rid of, the recipient would face financial disaster. However, it is unlikely that these stories are true. The beasts were too valuable to use in this manner.

In 1863, Charles Dickens published a story in the popular magazine, All Year Round, about the King of Siam gifting white elephants to ruin people. Later, an 1873 article from the New York Times also helped to spread the myth.

P.T. Barnum realized the difficulty of maintaining a white elephant when he brought one named “Toung Taloung” or “Gem of the Sky” to New York City. People were disappointed that the animal wasn't white—not compared to the elephant one of his rivals had painted white in order too fool his patrons. The investment didn’t bring the returns he had hoped for.

Since then, many large, expensive projects that didn’t pay out have been referred to as white elephants. The Empire State Building is one. Planned during the Roaring 20s and completed during the Great Depression, it took decades for the building to reach full occupancy. And its fancy docking station for airships (dirigibles) didn’t even work.

What we call white elephant parties today were known as swap parties in the 1880s. The white elephant name wasn't adopted until 1907, taking on the premise of giving useless gifts taking space in one's house. Some women joked that they'd bring their husbands. A year later, guidelines for hosting parties and exchanging gifts appeared in newspaper columns.

If I’m invited to a party this year, I may ask if I can be called the “Lord of the White Elephants.”

What will you bring to a white elephant party this year?

***

Love In Bloom 4-in-one collection

“A Song for Rose” by Suzanne Norquist

Can a disillusioned tenor convince an aspiring soprano that there is more to music than fame?

“Holly & Ivy” by Mary Davis

At Christmastime, a young woman accompanies her impetuous younger sister on her trip across the country to be a mail-order bride and loses her heart to a gallant stranger.

“Periwinkle in the Park” by Kathleen E. Kovach

A female hiking guide, who is helping to commission a national park, runs into conflict with a mountain man determined to keep the government off his land.

“A Beauty in a Tansy”

Two adjacent store owners are drawn to each other, but their older relatives provide obstacles to their ever becoming close.

Republished from Bouquet of Brides

Buy links: https://books2read.com/u/bOOx8K

https://www.amazon.com/Love-Bloom-Mary-Davis/dp/B0FPLFYCXR/

 

Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

 

A Chincoteague Christmas: Light, Legacy, and the Island’s Faithful Heart

   _By Tiffany Amber Stockton

There’s something about Christmas on an island that feels different. Maybe it’s the hush of wind shifting the sand dunes or the way lights flicker on oyster-shell roads. For Chincoteague, Christmas has always carried a deeper warmth, a celebration of community, simplicity, and faith that shines through the salty sea air.

In the early 1900s, before electricity reached every home, lanterns and candles glowed in windows as families gathered to sing carols and share the bounty of the sea. Churches played a central role, their pews filled with neighbors dressed in their Sunday best even on a weekday night.

Handmade gifts, knitted scarves, and jars of preserves passed from hand to hand, more precious than anything store-bought. Oyster roasts were common, as were Christmas socials and pageants where every child had a part, no matter how small.

It wasn’t about excess. It was about endurance. Even during the lean years of the Great Depression or after devastating storms, Chincoteague’s people found reasons to rejoice. They understood what it meant to be content with little, yet rich in spirit.

Following the devastating wildfire that ravaged most of the businesses on Main Street in November 1921, the island residents banded together and helped their neighbors clear debris and rebuild—quickly. By the time the causeway and bridges were ready just a few months later to receive visitors connected by land, the majority of those businesses were ready and operational.

In those moments, light became a decoration and a declaration. A reminder that no darkness, no storm, no hardship could snuff out the hope kindled by faith.

Today, visitors might see twinkling lights on the docks or attend a candlelight service without realizing they’re participating in traditions that stretch back multiple generations. The faces have changed, but the heartbeat remains the same: gratitude, generosity, and grace.

As this series comes to a close, may this Christmas reflection serve as a reminder that the legacy of Chincoteague is more than just history—it’s the enduring light of faith that still shines in every heart that calls the island home.

NOW IT'S YOUR TURN:

* What Christmas traditions from your family’s past do you still cherish or practice today?

* How have you seen faith or community bring light to dark seasons in your own life?

* If you could celebrate Christmas anywhere in history, what time and place would you choose, and why?

Leave answers to these questions or any comments on the post below.

** This note is for our email readers. Please do not reply via email with any comments. View the blog online and scroll down to the comments section.

Come back on the 9th of each month for my next foray into historical tidbits to share.

---

BIO

Tiffany Amber Stockton has embellished stories since childhood, thanks to a very active imagination and notations of talking entirely too much. Honing those skills led her to careers as an award-winning and best-selling author and speaker, while also working as a professional copywriter/copyeditor. She loves to share life-changing products and ideas with others to help them get rooted in truth and live a life of purpose.

Currently, she lives with her husband and fellow author, Stuart Vaughn Stockton, along with their two children, two dogs, and five cats in southeastern Kentucky. In her 20+ years as a professional writer, she has sold twenty-six (26) books so far and has agent representation with Tamela Murray of the Steve Laube Agency. You can find her on Facebook and GoodReads.

When the War Came to Chesapeake Bay: June 1942

by Martha Hutchens

image by @flowenol, deposit photos

Picture this.

You are swimming in Chesapeake Bay in June of 1942. The United States has been at war for nearly six months, but on this sunny day, all you can hear is the sound of children playing in the sea.

Until a tanker in the harbor explodes, and the war becomes all too real.

While almost everyone knows of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the other attacks on the U.S. remain a footnote in history—probably because they were underplayed at the time. No one wanted Americans to realize how close the war came to their doorsteps.

And, to be fair, compared to the battles raging in Europe and the Pacific, the attacks in the U.S. were minor.

Still, when I went looking for them, I was amazed at how many I found. Some were small, some startling, and most were completely new to me. This is the story of one.

image by @ratpack2, deposit photos

In the spring of 1942, Kapitänleutnant Horst Degen, captain of the U-boat U-701, received orders for a top-secret mission. He was to lay mines at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay. He did this on the night of June 12, 1942.

On June 15, the American tanker Robert C. Tuttle hit a mine. One man was blown overboard and drowned. The ship sank, but the shallow water left the stern above the surface. It was eventually salvaged and repaired.

When the Robert C. Tuttle was hit, the captain assumed he had been struck by a torpedo. (Stay tuned for a future post about the area near here nicknamed Torpedo Junction!) He told the ship following him, the Esso Augusta, to zigzag. Those evasive maneuvers caused the Augusta to hit another mine. The ship was crippled, but not sunk.

The U.S.S. Bainbridge, a destroyer escorting the convoy of tankers, believed they were under submarine attack. The crew scattered a series of depth charges. One of these triggered a mine that exploded near the destroyer, but there was no serious damage.

image by @roibu, deposit photos

Later that day, another ship fell victim to Degen’s mines. The H.M.S. Kingston Ceylonite, a British anti-submarine trawler escorting an American cargo ship crippled by a torpedo, ventured too close to a mine. The explosion triggered a secondary blast in the trawler’s magazine. It sank in under five minutes, taking half its crew with it.

By this time, crowds had packed the boardwalk and beachfront at Virginia Beach. They watched with binoculars and field glasses as the war they'd only read about in newspapers unfolded in front of them.

Needless to say, the shipping channel was closed. But before it could be completely cleared, one final ship would find the minefield. On June 17, the S.S. Santore struck a mine and sank, though most of the crew survived.

Two other ports were targeted by other submarines in this mission—Boston and Delaware Bay. No ships were lost at Boston. In fact, the mines remained undiscovered until after the war. One more ship was sunk off Cape May.

There were a surprising number of attacks on the U.S. mainland during World War II, far more than I expected when I began researching this topic. I’ll be sharing more of what I found soon.

Best-selling author Martha Hutchens is a history nerd who loves nothing more than finding a new place and time to explore. She won the 2019 Golden Heart for Romance with Religious and Spiritual Elements. A former analytical chemist and retired homeschool mom, Martha occasionally finds time for knitting when writing projects allow.

Martha’s debut novel, A Steadfast Heart, is now available. You can learn more about her books and historical research at marthahutchens.com.

When his family legacy is on the line, rancher Drew McGraw becomes desperate for someone to tame and tutor his three children. Desperate enough to seek a mail-order bride. But when the wrong woman arrives on his doorstep, Drew balks.

Heiress Kaitlyn Montgomery runs straight from the scandal chasing her toward a fresh start on a secluded ranch. She strikes a bargain with Drew—a marriage convenient for both of them.

But the more Kaitlyn adapts to ranch life and forms a bond with Drew’s children and their enigmatic father, she realizes that this ranch is where she is meant to be. And then her past catches up with her…

Christmas In The Dust

As the 1930's wore on, the rain still refused to fall on parts of Oklahoma, Texas, and New Mexico. The dusters got worse, health deteriorated, and money grew scarce as crops withered and what would come to be known as the Great Depression tightened its grip on the country. Every-day life became a battle against nature and necessity.

And yet life itself did go on. School and church were still a part of weekly schedules. There were still chores to be done, meals to be prepared (no matter how meager), and friends and family to visit.

And there was still Christmas.

Photo Credit: Cardboard Christmas

It's easy to look back from our 21st century cushion, with our abundance and what some consider over-commercialization of the holiday, and wince at the poverty of a Depression-era Christmas. And while it's true nowadays we have more physical "stuff," the holidays of the 1930s were, in some ways, very similar-and perhaps even better--than our own.

While some families today begin decorating for Christmas in November (or-gasp!-September), most decorating back then was done on Christmas Eve. While the drought killed off many trees, a good deal of families were still able to secure one (remember--this was long before plastic Christmas trees came into style!). The decorations were homemade, with either paper or hand-carved wooden ornaments, as well as strings of lights (if you were fortunate enough to have electricity) or candles (if you weren't). Although some decorated with strings of popcorn or cranberries, most Dust Bowl families simply didn't have the food to spare for such extravagance, opting instead for paper or strips of fabric.

Presents focused more on necessity than whimsy, with most gifts being homemade or homegrown. Women would make dresses and aprons from old flour sacks or knit hats, gloves, and scarves. Washcloths could be made by sewing together several layers of gauze, then topped with a pretty bow. If families could afford store-bought gifts, they were stretched; a single bar of soap could be cut into 4-6 smaller pieces, wrapped carefully in decorative paper, and given to many different recipients.

Children's fancies were not completely ignored, however. Magazines carried instructions on how to make dolls or stuffed animals from extra cloth, with names like "Gingham Dog" or "Hattie the Red-Checked Elephant." Bicycles were often re-painted to appear new, or dolls given new clothes. Stockings contained small pieces of candy, nuts, or raisins, special treats not normally on the menu. The most treasured of these delicacies was an orange, the sweet fruit being too expensive to purchase at other times of the year due to its long journey from Florida in an era before interstates and refrigerated trucks.

Christmas dinner was modest by today's standards but still considered a feast. Chicken or turkey was the staple, if the birds could be found and/or afforded, and was rounded out by vegetables from the garden, like potatoes or cabbage. Many families also managed to scrape together a pie for dessert.

Despite these hardships, or perhaps because of them, Christmas was still a time for joy and celebration. Families gathered together to eat and open gifts, usually attending a church service in the morning or evening. There were still carolers and acts of charity, Christmas parades and tales woven around the fire about old Saint Nick and his reindeer. In fact, many Christmas traditions still in practice today were started during the "scant" holidays of the 1930's.

Photo Credit: Cardboard Christmas

In 1931, artist Haddon Sundblom created the "Coca-Cola Santa," an image that shaped our modern version of the jolly old elf. 1933 brought with it the premiere of the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, starring the Rockettes. "Winter Wonderland" was written and released in 1934, while 1939 saw the first appearance of Rudolph, his red-nose shining out from a storybook given away as a promotional item for the Montgomery Ward Department Stores.

The most telling thing to emerge during the Depression, however, was the tradition of leaving milk and cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve. During this time of forced austerity and overwhelming want, it was a way to focus instead on the true meaning of Christmas: the blessing of giving over receiving and of gratitude for gifts, no matter how big or small.

Jennifer L. Wright grew up wanting to be a reporter, but it only took a few short months of working in journalism for her to abandon those aspirations for fiction writing instead. She loves to reimagine and explore forgotten eras in history, showcasing God's light amidst humanity's darkest days. Her books have won multiple awards, including Golden Scroll and Angel awards. She currently lives in New Mexico with her husband, two kids, a couple of hyperactive dachshunds, and an ever-growing herd of guinea pigs.