(PRWEB) December 24, 2005 -- Christmas, in a manner of speaking, arrived early this year in the mountains of southwestern North Carolina via a fierce ice storm. However, this is mild weather for Dakota City, Mars, a town in the story 'Dakota City' in R.K. Ferguson's new book, 'That's No Miracle...Nettles, Thistles, Humor, and Stories by a Scotch American'.
“ The three shall be one ”
It was not the ringing of sleigh bells or the clop of reindeer hooves on the roof hinting of Santa's arrival, but the tinkling of ice as trees and tree limbs snapped, fell through their stonger kin, and crashed to the ground with a final thump. This heralded the coming of the world's Christ child and Santa Claus, in whose girth the three wise men bearing gifts could reside with considerable comfort. "The three shall be one," jollied Santa, "so now you got me."
The ice storm swept through the night of December 14th and in its wake left us not merely glimpsing at Christmas's past, but immersed in the pre-electric days of our great grandparents and grandparents in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Electric power, light, and heat were big city feats of technology and ice storms may have slowed life a little more than usual but did not bring it to a stumbling halt as it does in our early twenty-first century America.
Woodstoves, fireplaces, oil lamps and candles were still the norm for heating and light. Four hoofed or eight hoofed drive was a reliable if slower way to get to Grandma's house and they ran on renewable green power. The house we are in now came with a gas log fireplace which I've always wanted to convert to wood burning since I grew up with wood burning fireplaces. I'm now thankful I never got around to it. Without power, the gas log fireplace in the den was able to moderately heat the whole main level which includes my eighty-four year old mother-in-law's room at the other end of the house. This was a blessing a wood burning fireplace would not have been able to grace us with.
This time of year storing refrigerated food was not a problem. The recycling bins in the garage were an instant and practical success in their conversion to a temporary refrigerator.
Children playing by an open fire? Not exactly. With one a college graduate and working for a local insurance agency, one graduating this year and also working, and the other a junior in high school, I can't call them children anymore. But with power, cable, and computers out and having an operating gas stove, gas fireplace, and gas water heater, our local family population quickly went up and the den became the center of many evening card games and board games by oil lamp and candle light. Jar candles using tin foil as reflectors were in vogue. My greatest joy was sitting in the adjoining living room with the darkened Christmas tree and its ornaments occasionally flickering the light of the single candle on the coffee table listening to the moans of a bad roll of dice or the cry of triumph of a winning hand, and the back and forth banter between my (adult) children, my wife, and mother-in-law.
Unfortunately, for those who would love to live on Mars, there won't be a Christmas in Dakota City for at least two or three hundred more years. But an ice storm, the Christ child, and Santa partnered in delivering a 1905 Christmas experience to this little region of earth; a gift not to be found under any Christmas tree, but I hope to be found in every heart. R.K. Ferguson, author, 'That's No Miracle...Nettles, Thistles, Humor, and Stories by a Scotch American'. Available at
http://www.lulu.com/rkferguson or through your favorite independent bookstore, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, and Waldenbooks.
