Time leap: 1925, the
two sons of fishers, Gary and Lenny, are seven years of age and the best
friends forever. Okay, the region was not very densely populated in these times
and the choice for best friends was not huge. But the two of them liked each
other very much and spent all day after school together. On extensive
expeditions they roamed through the surrounding lands – well, lacking “Playstation”
and “Disney Channel” the kids in these days played outdoors.
Their favorite spots of course had been at the coast, where they regularly with
moderate success were on the hunt for the largest piece of amber ever. And
beside the beach of course the Westfield-Wood at the lake, East of Westfield, was
their second home.
Here they knew each
tree by its first name, and while other kids, afraid of ghosts, didn’t dare to
do a step in the forest – Gary and Lenny were fearless fine ones. They thought
at least. Until this Christmas Eve in the year of 1925.
To spend the time
busy, until the desperately expected presents were given, both of them went for
one of their excursions into Westfield-Wood. It was a cold day and the blizzard
the night before had turned the landscape and the beach into a white Christmas
scenery. And at this Christmas Eve too, it was a Thursday, again scattered
showers of snow passed the Erie coast of New York.
But unimpressed by the
partly bad visibility our two heroes started, trying to follow animal tracks
before they got covered by new snow, leaping into high snowdrifts at the edges
of the fields, finally throwing snowballs from the cliff onto the beach.
But at one of these pitches something was different. While usually the landing
of the snowballs couldn’t be heard – due to the now calming blizzard nothing
was to see anyway – this time there was a reaction: “Hey, what’s that?”, a deep
voice seemed to call up from the beach.
Gary and Lenny stopped
surprised and dropped the rest of the snowballs. Very slowly they dared to walk
forward to the edge of the cliff, to see who on such a day at such a time in
such weather might be down on the beach under the Westfield-Wood. Fishermen,
that was clear to them, couldn’t be.
The snow storm now calmed down end they recognized – first just the silhouette,
then more details – what there was down at the beach. And although not looking
terrifying, both of them got goose bumps and had the idea to run away
immediately. But curiosity kept them at the cliff.
Because down there in
the snow on the sand there was a sleigh, tied to seven reindeers. On the sleigh
sat a fat man – maybe he just appeared so fat because of the furs he was
wearing over and over – and behind him sacks were piled.
As white as chalk the
boys looked at each other: “Santa Claus!” they whispered at the same time, then
to run home faster as they originally could have done. Fortunately, the
blizzard had stopped completely in the meantime, so there was no danger to lose
First they came to the
house of Gary Smith: “We have seen Santa Claus!” they puffed entering the cozy
warm heated living room. Disbelieving smiles there. “Yeas. Come with us, we
show him to you,” they yelled loud into the confused silence, and Lenny Miller
added: “I quickly run over to our house and tell it to my parents too.”
And by this, ten
minutes later a group of about a dozen persons – the mothers stayed at home –
started to walk the beach at the Specter-Wood. Sleigh, reindeers, Santa Claus?
Nothing was to see there. “And for that you lure us in this weather on
Christmas Eve out in the cold,” Lenny’s father shouted mad to his boy, “for
this you will feel my belt…”
“Stop,” suddenly Gary
yelled, “here are the tracks of the sleigh and the reindeer.” And right, they
came from the water and followed the beach. The group walked following the
tracks towards the Barcelona Lighthouse. Here, at the end of the forest, where
the cliffs vanish, was and is a way up to the land. Now the tracks went inland,
then heading to the path on the cliff towards Westfield.
Again, the group
followed. All the way through the Specter-Forest. Until the tracks reached the
house of Gary’s parents. When they entered the house, they found the mother in
the midst of a mountain of Christmas gifts. So many, the poor fishermen’s
family never could have afforded.
“You won’t believe
it,” Gary’s mother said with a sly smile, while hastily taking off a fur cap,
and hiding it behind her back, and closing the top button of her blouse, “but
Santa Claus was here and brought all that. All these gifts, his long switch and
outside the sleigh with the reindeers. The first one even had a red nose.”
Confused the group now was curious, where to the tracks went on. As expected:
The house where Lenny was living was the next stop. Here the same: Gifts over
gifts. And a likewise smiling mother, whose cheeks seemed to be red by the
cold, and who just adjusted her dress.
A further pursuit of
the sleighs’ and reindeers’ tracks ended about a quarter of a mile behind the
house. It looked, as if the sleigh with its engines got airborne here and
vanished into the sky.
“Of course, we first thought that our mothers had been behind all of that,” Gary
Smith remembers today, “but how should they have done that? Where did the
sleigh and the reindeers come from and where to did they vanish? If our mothers
would have had the deer somewhere – they couldn’t have covered that up!”
Lenny Miller too doubts the obvious explanation: “Gary and I at last have seen
the sleigh with the reindeers and the fat man. And all others found the tracks
for several miles. How should our mothers have made that? Although they have
been alone at home, while the others followed the tracks together.”
Of course, the two gentlemen asked their mothers in their lifetimes time and
again, what had happened at Christmas of the year 1925. But beside mysterious
smiles they never got an answer. And so many Christmas gifts they never got
Just one common thing happened following these days: End of September 1926 both
mothers again gave birth to kids. Obviously, the Christmas Eve of 1925 with the
search for Santa Claus in the cold, had found a cozy final when the spouses
returned to both of their homes. And Gary and Lenny each got a baby brother
nine months later. Concerning the names, the mothers retained the upper hands.
No chances for the husbands to have their ideas get through. Gary’s brother was
called Nick. Lenny’s brother got the name Claus.
Both boys became as
best friends as their older siblings were. They went to school together, had a
preference for clothing in red, graduated at the high school in Fredonia and
started to study geography at the Humboldt-University in Germantown. What
happened to them later on nobody knows. Because in the year 1969 both of them
vanished on a geographic expedition in the northern part of Greenland.
At least, many of you surely remember the
story. You don’t remember? Well, may be everything is just completely made