Thinking Back

Part of every Christmas, I think, is thinking back to —

“Remember the year that Aunt Olive forgot to take the lining paper out of the frozen pie crusts, and she made a bunch of custard pies with paper in the bottoms!” “Remember the year that we bought each other the same things for Christmas!” “Remember the year it SNOWED!!”

One of my most favorite Christmas Eve memories involves a boat, a starry night, and battleships. 1972.

First of all, I was pregnant, six weeks away from Kevin’s being born. I thought a whole lot more about Mary than I had in previous years. Second, the boat business.

David was in the Air Force and stationed at Hickam Air Force Base (next to Pear Harbor Naval Base). Our church, located near the bases, had primarily military families.

First Southern Baptist Church of Pearl Harbor

Few of them traveled home for the holidays. A Viet Nam peace agreement was near, but it was still wartime. Personnel needed to stay on duty, and mainland relatives were much too far away to make a quick visit.

The church’s Christmas celebrating included a musical presentation by the adult choir one Sunday evening, and a special youth choir musical a week later, on Christmas Eve. David would be singing with the adult choir on December 17, and he had accepted a speaking part in the teen-agers’ production on December 24.

Early in December, our church received a request for help. A previous organist was now the choir director at the chapel on Ford Island, in the middle of Pearl Harbor. His small choral group was going to present the same Christmas cantata that our adults were practicing. Their presentation would be on Christmas Eve, the week after ours, and their group was short of men. Could some of the men from our choir come to help out?

The young man had figured out the details. If the men left our church immediately after the youth choir’s presentation, they could drive the short distance and be at the dock in time to catch an outgoing ferry. They could reach Ford Island in time to be picked up and driven to the chapel. Many of our men agreed to help. But David felt that, as a member of the youth choir’s cast, he would be rude to scurry away right after the last note was sounded. He sent his regrets.

“We can work this out,” the chapel’s choir director said. “The rush would be getting to the ferry. There would be plenty of time if you came another way.”

“What way would that be,” wondered David. There’s a bridge, now, to the island, but, forty years ago, the only access was by water.

“I’ll send a launch,” the young man promised. “You’ll have an additional thirty minutes to get to the base. The launch can get you here in time because it’ll be faster and it can go a different, shorter route than the big ferry.”

“All right, then,” David said. And that was our plan.

On Christmas Eve, the church was filled with friends and parents and siblings. The teen-agers did an excellent job. David was able to take his time congratulating them and accepting the thanks of parents and leaders for his help. We didn’t linger though, and left for the quick drive over to Pearl Harbor. David followed the directions to the launch dock, where, as promised, a young sailor was waiting with the small motorboat.  In moments, we were on our way.

The launch did indeed travel a different path than the ferry to get to Ford Island. It went through Battleship Row.

This is a photo (of the USS IOWA) I found on a Navy history site. Multiply this by 6 or 8 ships, and imagine yourself gliding by in a little motorboat. Pretty amazing, huh.

Every ship that could be spared to come back to port had come. They made a huge canyon, rising up on both sides of us, as we puttered by in our tiny boat. And every giant ship was ablaze with Christmas lights, strung along railings and from masts and smokestacks, radiant in the night. Some strings of lights had been fashioned into holiday shapes like stars and trees. Some were looped into letters spelling Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Stunning and wondrous and breath-taking.

I wanted to say, “Stop, turn around, I want to see all that again!” But, people were expecting us over in the chapel.

After the service, we joined other folks from our church on the last ferry back to the Pearl Harbor shore. It was large, holding scores of people as well as cars. Of course, it went the long way back, the wider way. I craned my head and looked around, but couldn’t see any of the lights from the big ships. Sigh.

Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.

Luke 2:4,5 (NRSV)

I hope Mary got to see some interesting and memorable things on her trip to Bethlehem. But maybe they’re just her next-to-most favorite memories from that Christmas Eve.