San Francisco Sentinel » Blog Archives » CHRISTMAS MEMORIES PART II

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES PART II - ON SCENE WITH BILL WILSON

23 December 2009

BY BILL WILSON
Sentinel Photojournalist
Bill Wilson © 2009

Although we didn’t know it at the time, it would be the last Christmas my family would have with all of us- father, mother, David West, John Bray, Marie LaVake and me - together. Since before I was born my family had been spending Christmas Eve with Frances Walker, a distant cousin of my father, and a very good friend to our entire family. My middle name, Francis, was in her honor.

The snow had started early in the afternoon and it was clear this wasn’t going to be a light dusting. By the time we were ready to go more sensible or practical people might have been detered. The first time we got stuck the less stubborn might have said, “Turn around. Go back”.But my father was determined and we had the weight of tradition that gave us the traction to get there.

So while we had a beautiful Christmas Eve dinner inside, outside the wind and snow were conspiring to try to keep us from getting back home for Christmas. The snow had drifted in such a way as to completely cover the car in the driveway. We couldn’t see it even though we knew where we had left it. My father refused to dig it out so it was clear that the only way home would be to walk several miles. My parents were all in favor of all of us spending the night at Frances’. When my older brothers decided that they were going to walk home, my sister and I insisted on going with them.I remember my father trying to convince us to stay by saying, “You know that you don’t have to be home for Santa to leave you presents.”

It took us about an hour to walk home through the most magical winter wonderland provided by several feet of fresh snow.We were the only ones besides the plow operators out. The streets we walked had been freshly plowed. That made walking easy and because there were no cars on the road we could walk in the middle of the street. The snow strangely muted all the sounds

When we got home we called Frances as we had been instructed by my parents. She informed us that our parents had left just a few minutes after we did. They thought they would catch up with us but they didn’t. It took them twice as long to get home. We were really worried. Bu by the time they arrived we had a fire going in the fireplace and a pot of hot chocolate on the stove. Even though he tired to put on a stern “father”ly face and said how crazy we were for wanting to be in our own house for Christmas, we realized
that father did have a very sentimental side. He just didn’t let it show very often. There was some unspoken, intangible thing that made it important for all of us to be under the same roof for that Christmas.

Having experienced those ties that bound us together, I know that those ties are universal. I know because I’ve spent several Christmases in Rome, Italy with my husband’s family. I speak no Italian, they speak no English. Yet the laughter and the conversations around the table sound very much the same to me.

See Related: ON SCENE WITH BILL WILSON ARCHIVE

BILL WILSON
Sentinel Photojournalist
Bill Wilson is a San Francisco-based veteran photojournalist. Bill embraced photojournalism at the age of eight. In recent years, his photos capture historic record of the San Francisco LGBT community in the Bay Area Reporter (BAR), The New York Times, The San Francisco Chronicle, The San Francisco Examiner, SFist, SFAppeal. Bill has contributed to the Sentinel for the past six years. Email Bill Wilson at wfwilson@sbcglobal.net.