Christmas brings up a lot of emotions for me and so does Globe Santa, which was my family’s lifeline back to normalcy. It even shaped the work I did later in life.
I was born in 1953, the middle of five boys, raised mostly in Somerville. Mom’s job was to take care of us, and my dad was the breadwinner, as most men were back then.
His name was Eddie Carroll, and he worked for the B&M Railroad in Cambridge for 20 years or so, cleaning the old cabooses along with the yards and tracks. He made sure they were aligned so there wouldn’t be any accidents. After he was laid off, he walked across the street and landed a job at the Coca-Cola bottling plant in the maintenance department. We had uncles and aunts who had a little bit more than we did and helped us along. Other relatives helped out as well.
Those were good days. I can remember sitting on my dad’s lap watching the western “Gunsmoke’’ while he smoked his pipe and drank a beer. I, of course, had a Coke.
When he worked at Coke, the management would have the workers’ kids over for a Christmas celebration and hand out silver dollars. I had the most fun with my dad there. We’d walk back from the Coke plant all the way to Washington Street in Somerville because my dad didn’t have a car. It was a long walk but I got to hold his hand the whole way back. It was a magical time for me.
But in the winter of 1962, when I was nine, he wasn’t doing too well. He had started getting sick a bit here and there, retaining fluid around his heart. Then he was struggling to breathe. My mom, Dorothy, was worried. I remember seeing it in her eyes when she cried at night at the kitchen table. We had no money, and we couldn’t pay the rent.
Christmas was approaching and it was a melancholy time. I was hoping my dad would come home, but my mom kind of knew ahead of time that things were going to be really tough, though she didn’t tell us kids. She went to St. Joseph Church in Union Square in Somerville and spoke to the pastor. She must have told him my dad was on his way out.
The pastor submitted something to the Globe Santa people, and then, two days before Christmas, a gigantic green Globe delivery truck pulled up in front of our three-decker. It was the type of box truck the Globe used for long hauls up to Maine and other New England states. Out came a delivery guy carrying big cardboard barrels filled with basketballs, footballs, Lincoln Logs, and other toys of that era. I’m pretty sure we opened the barrels right then and there. We were so excited!
Three days after Christmas, my mom got a call at 2:30 in the morning from the hospital and they told her that my father had passed away. I’ve never heard such wailing and crying in my life. She was inconsolable. I was sleeping in a big bed with my two brothers, and we got out of bed and peeked around the corner. There was my aunt, tearing down the Christmas tree. I was dumbfounded.
It was such a sad time, but Globe Santa made us forget about what had happened, at least intermittently. The next year there was no money available for presents, so Globe Santa came again. By 1964, we were able to stand on our feet and brush ourselves off. But Globe Santa gave my mom some solace to provide for her five boys, now that the love of her life was no longer by her side. Globe Santa is one of the reasons I went to work for the Globe for about 25 years, starting in 1971. (The other was that I needed a job!) I was an editorial assistant and worked in the wire room, where teletype machines would spin out the breaking news from across the world. In 1976 I even drove the reporters’ typewriters to the Republican convention in Kansas City, Mo., and the Democratic convention in New York.
It was all because of Globe Santa who has made so many kids and families happier and continues his wonderful philanthropy to the children of Greater Boston.
For 69 years Globe Santa, a program of the Boston Globe Foundation, has provided gifts to children in need at holiday time. Please consider giving by phone, mail, or online at
globesanta.org
.
