Christmas on Elmwood Street, Part Three - Updated and Reposted

Christmas on Elmwood Street, Part Three!

Again, this is a repost of the story about my Dad, "Billy Mursch", written from his own words.  I am so thankful that I took the time to listen and write down these stories as he told them to me...they are priceless and precious.  Little did I know that  Christmas (2010) would be the last Christmas he would spend with us here on earth.  Now he is rejoicing with the angels in heaven and enjoying the REAL celebration of Christmas with my mother...and most of all, with Jesus.    I hope you will enjoy this last episode from the story of "Christmas on Elmwood Street", reposted in memory of my sweet Daddy. 

The Mursch House on Elmwood Street, Crafton, PA, 1929

Elva and Bill Mursch
(My Grandparents)

Billy Mursch

This is the third and last part of the mini-series of "A Chapter in the Life of Billy Mursch", Crafton, Pennsylvania, Circa 1929.  If you've missed the first two parts, please look back on my blog for the last few days to catch up with us!  (This story is written from his perspective).



Madame Schumann-Heink singing Silent Night
Click on the link above to hear her singing just
as it was back in 1929 on the radio.

On Christmas Eve our family gathered in the living room to listen to Madame Schumann-Heink sing Silent Night in German on the radio. This was a tradition for many families during those pre-WWII years, and one that was very special to my father especially as it reminded him of his German family heritage.

Then we would “hang up our stockings by the chimney with care”, and in the morning we would gleefully sing out "Merry Christmas!" to each other as we discovered the treasures of perhaps a new handkerchief, an apple, nuts and maybe some candy tucked inside! After opening our gifts ("The Boy Ranchers Among the Indians" YES!! A new pocket-knife? Wow, Gee Thanks, Santa! ) we would gather around the table for a delicious ham dinner with all the trimmings. My mother was a wonderful cook, and even when times were tough, she could create a meal that made our celebration a very joyous time together.

Later in the evening our family would take a walk around the neighborhood and see all the homes decked out in their glorious Christmas displays. It was truly a festive time on Elmwood Street! Such happy, happy memories.


Oh yes, one more little adventure to share with you:
Our family faithfully attended church at St. Matthew’s Evangelical Lutheran in Crafton. My mother was quite involved in the Ladies’ Circle of our church, and this particular year she was to host their meeting at our home shortly after Christmas. Unfortunately, our Christmas tree had shed its needles rather prematurely, and the tree stood quite bare in our living room. She was embarrassed at its nakedness, but hadn’t had time to take it down prior to her meeting. While she was out doing her errands before the meeting, I happened to notice that one of our neighbors had already discarded their Christmas tree and had left it on the street for the trash men to pick up. That tree still had many more needles on its branches than ours, so I thought it would be a wonderful surprise for my mother if I switched the trees and redecorated it before she arrived home with her lady friends for the meeting! I quickly made the exchange and cleaned up the mess just in time for the ladies to arrive at our door. Much to my chagrin, my mother was mortified that I had taken this tree off the trash heap and brought it in to our home, but the other ladies all laughed and thought it was just wonderful of “little Billy” to be so ingenious and creative! So she recovered from her embarrassment and praised me for my thoughtfulness. (Whew! That was a close one!)

Our Christmas Tree (before the needles fell off)

 

Introducing my fiance' Dorothea Tedlie to my family.
l to r:  Ruth Mursch, Dorothea Tedlie, Marion Mursch, Mother Elva
Mursch, (back row, l to r): Dad William H. Mursch,
Me "Billy" William F. Mursch, and brother Paul Mursch, circa 1940
(click on pictures to enlarge view)

Yep, growing up during the depression in the outskirts of Pittsburgh had its difficult moments, but all in all, God had truly blessed our family with His peace and joy. Not too many years after that I introduced my beautiful fiancé, Dorothea Tedlie, to my family in that same house, and then a few years later brought our own four children home to visit their grandparents so that they could taste the Anise cookies and the Sand Tarts and experience Christmas the way I had growing up on Elmwood Street.

Looking back, I have to stop and thank the Lord for all His wondrous blessings to me for the past ninety-two years. I am so thankful to have had Godly parents who brought me up in a Christian home so that I could pass on that same heritage to my children and to their children and to all future generations.

It is my Christmas prayer that each and every one of you will cherish your family and treasure the gift of the “Prince of Peace”, Jesus Christ, that precious Baby in the Manger and our Savior today.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

"Billy Mursch"
(08/09/1918-4/19/2011)

The Mursch Family a few years later, circa 1952
in the dining room of the house on Elmwood Street.

 

The Mursch Family 1969

Paul, Grandpa, Marion, Grandma, "Billy", and Ruth.

Some of the Mursch Family, 1982



The "Billy Mursch" Family, 2005 (most of it)

The Very Distinguished "Billy Mursch"
2010, age 92.  What a guy!!!  (UPDATE: THIS
WAS TAKEN AS HE ENJOYED HIS
LAST THANKSGIVING WITH HIS FAMILY.  We all really miss his wit and charm...)

Link to "Christmas on Elmwood Street, Part One"

Link to "Christmas on Elmwood Street, part Two"

Back to the Present:    I hope you all enjoyed this little walk down memory lane with me as my Dad "Billy" told his stories from his childhood.  One thing I have learned this past year in particular as I have been researching my family genealogy, it is so important to take the time to talk to our elders while we have the opportunity.  So much history and knowledge is lost when we don't ask the questions and write down their stories.  For most of us our parents and grandparents are long gone.  So we need to tell our own kids and grandkids our stories while we can. I know...they probably don't want to sit down long enough to listen...so write your story...use your blog as a way to share the past...the traditions...the good memories and the sad ones too.  Because we do so much on social media we are losing the hand written letters and journals and photo albums that are real and not virtual.  When the technology changes much of what we have put in social media will be lost.  Share your story now while you can.  And if you still have your elder loved ones near you, ask them about their lives and record it somehow. Every life matters!

After Christmas I will be sharing what I learned in my genealogical research on Ancestry.com this past year. It is quite an interesting story and I know you will enjoy reading it. So stay tuned, and have a very Merry Christmas!!

Christmas on Elmwood Street, Part Two (Updated and Reposted)

The continuing story of my dad, "Billy" Mursch, at the age of ten, around 1928-29. He shared these stories with me when he was about 89- or 90 years old, and I am so glad I listened!  Otherwise, they would be lost forever.   Be sure to read the Part One, reposted earlier. (Christmas on Elmwood St. Part One) I originally posted these in loving memory of my Dad, "Billy Mursch", who passed on to be with the Lord in 2011.  Be sure to watch for the 3rd part sometime in the near future.  

I hope you will enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed hearing these stories from my father's own lips.  Reading them again brings him closer to me somehow...

Part Two:  (written from the perspective of "Billy Mursch"

Our home on Elmwood Street, Circa 1929

Wintertime was an idyllic season for us kids on Elmwood Street. When the snow fell the town would close off some of the side streets and the kids could ice skate in the flat icy areas and go sledding down the hilly snow-covered streets. We’d build a fire in an old oil drum so we could warm up between sled rides. Many a day we stayed outside until our noses were red and our toes were numb, and then we dragged our sleds back to our warm cozy houses for some hot chocolate and steaming bowls of soup at the end of the day. 

 

Another favorite Christmas memory was the smell of cookies baking in the kitchen, and then the many tins of cookies and other goodies, stacked up on the attic stairs to keep fresh, waiting to be eaten by family and friends at Christmas. We kids were forbidden to touch the containers before Christmas…but it sure was a temptation! My favorite cookies were Anise Cookies and Sand Tarts. These were very special old German recipes that my mother loved to bake for our family, and we sure loved to eat them!

  (Recipes can be found on my blog page- "It's Recipe Thyme"---Another New Recipe)http://pamelasopenwindow.blogspot.com/p/its-recipe-thyme-new-recipe.html

When we set up our Christmas tree, it was traditional in our family to put a toy train under the tree. The train that we used was actually built by my father, and I still have it today. When I was a little older I designed a very unique village to go with our train. Prior to Christmas I would go out in the woods and gather Sphagnum Peat Moss to be used as grass and to fashion small trees for our village. Then I constructed little houses and other buildings for the village by using the wood from the apple boxes brought home from the grocer. One year our village was quite elaborate as I set up a small lake in a pan in the fire box of the fireplace, and placed the moss and trees around and laid out the railroad tracks to run from one side of the bookcases lining the fireplace to the other. I built a mountain on one side and constructed a hotel on top, complete with people and cars and trucks. On the other side was a farm, with a barn, silo, farmhouse, and animals. Next to the farm was a Nativity Scene with Mary and Joseph, the Baby Jesus and the other members of that holy place. Down in the village the train ran through town and made its stops at the local schoolhouse, the Village Church, stores and depot. This project was a forerunner of the hobby that I would enjoy for many years as an adult.

The Christmas Tree and the Train Village I made as a child. (Billy Mursch talking)

Another view of the Train Village under the Christmas Tree in the living room
at our home on Elmwood Street.

"The locomotive and train  is the one my Dad made for me.  The village
was an elaborate creation that got better every year as I learned how to
add more interesting stuff to it."  (per Billy Mursch)

Please check back next week to hear the rest of this story...it keeps getting better...!http://pamelasopenwindow.blogspot.com/2010/11/christmas-on-elmwood-street-part-three.html


Back to the present: Now you see where I get my interest in having a train under the tree!

Here's our latest pictures of our little village and train after I added some lights to the buildings tonight. I didn't realize when I bought these little LED lights that they were blue! Next time I will read the label! But they don't look too bad, do they?  I said on Facebook that it looks like we will be having a "Blue Christmas without you..."    Wanna sing along with Elvis as you look at our "Blue Christmas"?

Here's a video of the train going round the track! I hope you enjoy it with me!

I do hope your Christmas is merry and bright!

Christmas on Elmwood Street- Part One -Reposted again ...Enjoy!

UPDATED DECEMBER 2018....2020 for my Wednesday Treasures post...

This is a true story that I wrote about my Dad, written from his own perspective.   In 2011 the story became even more precious, because my Dad passed away earlier in that year...so I am reprinting this series again in honor and loving memory of my Dad, William F. "Billy" Mursch.  The story is in three parts, so I will add the next chapter later, and so on until it is complete.  I hope you will enjoy this little blast from Christmas Past... (there are links to the other chapters at the end of this post).


Original Post, December 2010:
I originally wrote this story  for my father's Christmas card several years ago, which was sent to all of his family and friends for Christmas.  I will add a little more each day until it is complete. I hope you enjoy this glimpse into the life of my Dad, "Billy Mursch", when he was about 10 years old.  (written from his perspective)

The Home of "Billy Mursch"
Elmwood Street, Crafton, PA



Billy Mursch, with partial
views of his sister Marion (top right,
and his brother Paul (rt.)

A Chapter in the Life of “Billy” Mursch

Crafton, Pennsylvania

Circa 1929

As a young boy growing up in the 1920’s and 30’s in a small suburb of the big city of Pittsburgh, I would say that I was very typical for the time. Of course, the fact that I had a head full of bright auburn hair made my life a bit more interesting, and created opportunities for others to attach various knicknames to me like “Red-headed Billy Goat”, which resulted in great chases on the school yard. My friend “Brinkie” (Ralph Brinkman) and I could take care of the bullies all right.

Elva and Bill Mursch
(Billy's parents)

My family moved to our brand new home on Elmwood Street right about the time of the beginning of The Great Depression in 1929. My Dad had our house built from a kit that he purchased through the Lumber Yard in Crafton. It was a Craftsman style one story and a half bungalow, with a big front porch, walk up attic, and a basement. 

I immediately claimed the attic for my special museum where I kept my treasures of rocks, fossils and shells from our trips to Lake Erie. My Uncle Jack also brought me some interesting fossils and shells from his travels in Bermuda, which made my museum even more unique. I later expanded the museum to the basement, using a large refrigerator carton as my display cabinet for other artifacts, such as the small pieces of a crashed airplane that we discovered over at the County Airport. 

As any young budding archeologist might do, I once was attempting to reconstruct the skeleton of an old Airedale dog that had been buried in the woods for about a year by one of our neighbors. Everything was just fine until my mother smelled the peculiar stench of old bones boiling in a kettle on the laundry boiler wafting up from the basement and permeating the house above. That particular artifact had to be removed from the museum and re-buried in the woods post-haste! I was only trying to get the skeleton nice and clean for the museum. So much for my career in archeology!

L to R: Paul, Billy, Ruth, Marion, and neighbor boy Bobby Scott.

Christmas was a wonderful time, even during The Great Depression. Although my father had a good job at U.S. Steel in Pittsburgh, money was still very tight for our large family. You see, besides my parents and myself, there were my three siblings: my older sister Marion, my younger brother Paul, and our baby sister Ruth. Being typical kids, we each had our own little lists of what we hoped Santa would bring us, and we’d start dropping hints several weeks before the big day. My particular desire was for the latest edition of The Boy Ranchers series of books. I couldn’t wait to find out what the “Boy Ranchers” would be doing next. Some of the intriguing titles of those books were: The Boy Ranchers in Camp; The Boy Ranchers on the Trail; The Boy Ranchers Among the Indians; The Boy Ranchers on Roaring River; and The Boy Ranchers in Death Valley, to name a few of my favorites. It was awfully difficult for a young boy to have to wait a whole year to get the next edition of his favorite book, but it was always well worth the wait!

(Book cover copied from internet...wish I could buy them, but they are quite expensive now) 

The other item that we could usually expect to receive for Christmas was a new pair of shoes. These shoes had to last all year, as they were the only pair we could hope to receive, so it was imperative that I learned how to take good care of them. The shoes I remember most were my leather high top boots that had a little pocket on the side for my Boy Scout pocketknife! No boy in that era would be caught dead without his trusty pocketknife always ready to whittle some stick or cut a trail through the woods or build a fort. The high tops looked really sharp with the knickers we still had to wear. The only thing better would have been to finally be able to wear long pants!

Sometimes before Christmas we would take a ride downtown on the streetcar to Pittsburgh and walk through the streets of the city and look in all the department store windows. Kaufmanns and The Joseph Horne Co. always had elaborate displays of toys and electric trains and all the newest and best things any little boy or girl could wish for. However, for many children, with the depression looming over our nation, that was pretty much all it was…a wish.

TO BE CONTINUED....Link to "Christmas on Elmwood Street, Part Two" and Part Three: http://pamelasopenwindow.blogspot.com/2010/11/christmas-on-elmwood-street-part-three.html

Back to the future:  I will post these next two chapters of this story on the next two days, but you are welcome to look ahead at those links if you just can't wait! Thank you for following along on this little look into the past with me.