Christmas Eve Vigil supper. 1960s
Photo SR Golanka.
.
All ages join in...
“Now the young people, must sing!” Daddy invited the cousin-kids
to a Christmas Eve carol. “Even jingle
bells.” He added. The kids sang, knowing
that he would prepare them some Johnnie Ryan (lemon-lime soda) mix with the
honey liquor or wine. Kids felt like
grown ups. They were treated as a part
of every family gathering, because Dad involved them in everything.
That’s probably where my appreciation for culture,
tradition, and family ritual came from and why I picked up on the Krupnik run.
Having involved me in every possible home-improvement project from bricklaying
to carpentry, plumbing and electrical, I learned that guys bonded at sausage
smoking fests, wine making events, fishing, of course, then mushroom picking,
building Christmas mangers and stars, and in my father’s case even Easter egg
writing.
Krupnik soon became the secret drink I would smuggle back to
the Seminary for a clandestine “Gody (Christmas) Season” caroling party with
classmates. Often my Dad’s best friend, with whom he grew up on the same street
in Poland, would add a forest berry liquor to the seminary care package. “You must celebrate with your friends.” said
my Dad as he passed over smoked meats, homemade condiments, and old style sour-dough
rye.
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