5 Min read
On traditions
1 Holiday classic film rec
1 recipe
Eggnog Riot at West Point
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Feeling like ToddAndMargo*, I asked my husband if my neighbor’s Christmas lights were keeping him awake. No, apparently it was just me. Until the pet sitter stayed over in the front guest room. I asked if the Christmas lights kept him up.
“They don’t go off until 2:00 AM,” he said. Guess he was awake.
The gazillion lights Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) puts on the house are part of his well-meaning efforts to instill holiday cheer in the classic film, Christmas Vacation. When he is finally able to turn them on, the light shock is the end of his neighbors’ intimate evening.
For fifteen years, our side of the lane has been a quiet enclave. Both houses across the way did not celebrate Christmas at home or at all. Years ago, my youngest child persisted in asking if we would put up lights. A flashing LED snowflake and LED tree in opposite front windows were my concession, large enough to be visible from the lane, cheerful enough for the kiddies.
Side note here: my oldest arrived home from the airport and admired the new owners’ professional display of white-lit trees and candy cane walkway. Promptly on turning into our driveway, she began to laugh, to snort and guffaw.
The lights aren’t the problem. It’s the change, I guess. My friends have gone and I updated the Christmas card addresses, several to out of state. My children are no longer children, but what else do you call them? Oh, hello, these are my young adults. Never. They will always be my children.
The children–now adults–are going off for New Year’s to ski with the boyfriend and his friends. That’s good. They grow up and they go off. I’m glad they let us know.
Army lost to Navy in Washington, D.C. This, for some may seem a non-sequitur, but trust me that this game is every bit a kickoff to the holidays for some as Black Friday is for the masses. My mother, Nana, was very sick and I moved her to the TreeHouse, right behind my farm desk and next to the craft center. A virus, a flu, who knows. Doctor detected signs of pneumonia and said she might need an IV to get fluids. Nurse took Nana’s weight at 87 pounds with hat, shoes and clothes on.
Nana’s small nearly lifeless form was on one side of my loveseat, covered in a fuzzy blue Cinderella throw from the girls’ Disney days. The place smelled of ginger and lemon tea, and was warm from the space heater. She covered her mouth to scream at me to wear a mask. Later she asked if she could keep the throw. “It’s so soft.” It was too late for masks, because I was sick.
Sorry, dear reader, to be away from my letter so long. It was karma, me getting sick, violently at times but I’ll be kind and spare you details. It was the same day family was coming in from Oklahoma and West Point, and the boyfriend was visiting, the one who skies. Snowboards it turns out. I drew the curtains against the Griswold’s, shut the TreeHouse door to my bedroom, and wrapped myself in the comforter.
I focused on sleep, though it does not come as you would like if you’re ill. I thought about my mother and how badly she must have felt on her own, when I was at the football game. A dual course of antibiotics and supervised drinking helped her recovery but she remains fragile and continues to cough.
In the dark bedroom, I had another Griswold moment when Clark is left alone and cold in the attic, with a trunk of 1920s era clothing to keep warm and old reel-to-reel movies to watch. For me, the film was running in my head and the body was at times cold and hot. The vignettes played out in a fashion of Christmases past and present.
If you’ve been lucky as we’ve been, you don’t realize how invaluable your health is until you or someone you love is sick. It’s the most important blessing of all, essential to all the rest, for the humility and generosity and good will to man this time of year. Nana is our last parent living and she is clearly getting back to herself, giving me a lot of directions.
Christmas marks the darkest time of the year. From here on, every day will be longer and brighter. Sending you best wishes for good health and joy. And, Bless the Griswolds next door! whose lights are truly a wonder to behold, especially, when I walked down the lane to see my own lights more clearly.
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FOOTNOTES
*Todd and Margo are the neighbors of the Griswolds in the iconic film, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
**Traditions and Transitions
Good will and worship. Musical moments at Congregational happened on Wednesday at noon. Has evolved over the years. Holiday cards – of tidings to family and friends, especially important for those we do not see often.
Menu. Christmas eve we have Ina Garten’s corn chowder to remember my father and humble beginnings. It’s easy–lots of prep ahead options–and tasty, plus you can eat buffet style, which we will probably transition to next year. The children are in charge of the charcuterie and cheese because, humility aside, we ARE foodies. Christmas day we have Roast Beast–usually standing rib roast–with grandma’s yorkshire pudding.
The stockings. Traditions of childhood, adolescence, adulthood may come and go, even change. A friend’s recommendation works wonders in our family, with each person adding a small gift to the stockings of all gathered in the home.
The tree. Family and guests bring home the tree the day after Thanksgiving. The lights go on the tree but it is not trimmed until Christmas eve when the family is all home. The star is put on at the end. The glass pickle ornament is carefully hidden after the tree is trimmed and the first to find it wins a prize.
Pajamas and a puzzle on Christmas eve. Since the children were little we opened PJs and did a family activity which has evolved into a wooden jigsaw, opened and put together after dinner. I suffer the critics on the theme but won a Golden Globe last year for my Barbie and Kenough tee shirts.
Family Travel. Home has become the destination for young adults who want to visit pets, their rooms, and hometown friends. Last year we visited Savannah, near the oldest’s current duty station.
Eggnog. We have this with a scoop of ice cream and shake of cinnamon. Rum optional.
*RECIPE: CHEDDAR CORN CHOWDER
from Barefoot Contessa, link to recipe online
Ingredients
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8 ounces bacon, chopped
1/4 cup good olive oil
6 cups chopped yellow onions (4 large onions)
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1/2 cup flour
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
12 cups chicken stock
6 cups medium-diced white boiling potatoes, unpeeled (2 pounds)
10 cups corn kernels, fresh (10 ears) or frozen (3 pounds)
2 cups half-and-half
1/2 pound sharp white cheddar cheese, grated
Directions
- In a large stockpot over medium-high heat, cook the bacon and olive oil until the bacon is crisp, about 5 minutes. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and reserve. Reduce the heat to medium, add the onions and butter to the fat, and cook for 10 minutes, until the onions are translucent.
- Stir in the flour, salt, pepper, and turmeric and cook for 3 minutes. Add the chicken stock and potatoes, bring to a boil, and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, until the potatoes are tender. If using fresh corn, cut the kernels off the cob and blanch them for 3 minutes in boiling salted water. Drain. (If using frozen corn you can skip this step.) Add the corn to the soup, then add the half-and-half and cheddar. Cook for 5 more minutes, until the cheese is melted. Season, to taste, with salt and pepper. Serve hot with a garnish of bacon.
**Reposted from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook
* SOURCE for Article below: https://www.history.com/news/when-eggnog-sparked-a-riot-at-west-point
When Eggnog Sparked a Riot at West Point
Think the office holiday party got a little out of control? That was nothing compared to the alcohol-fueled Christmas celebration at West Point 190 years ago that turned into a riot.
By Christopher Klein
Updated: June 1, 2023 | Original: December 19, 2016
On the night before Christmas in 1826, Captain Ethan Allen Hitchcock turned in shortly before midnight. Visions of sugar plums may not have been dancing in the head of the U.S. Military Academy faculty member, but dreams of a silent night likely were. Although the academy’s superintendent, Colonel Sylvanus Thayer, had warned Hitchcock that the cadets inside his dormitory might attempt to throw their traditional Christmas drinking party overnight, all was quiet in West Point, New York, as Thayer drifted asleep snug in his bed inside the North Barracks.
Unbeknownst to Hitchcock, however, a party had already started. Cadets had been secretly smuggling liquor into their barracks for days as Christmas approached, a risky venture that could have resulted in their expulsions because for an Army man, Thayer ran a tight ship. Since the colonel took charge of the academy in 1817, his strict discipline had transformed it from a school in disarray into an elite institution. A West Point graduate himself, Thayer prohibited everything from playing cards to tobacco to even novels.
In a bit of leniency, “The Father of West Point” had allowed alcohol on the Fourth of July and Christmas. That changed, however, following a rowdy celebration on July 4, 1825, when cadets engaged in a “snake dance” and hoisted the school’s commandant, William Worth, on their shoulders and carried him back to their barracks.
Thayer’s outright ban on the possession of “any spirituous or intoxicating liquor” meant the biggest party of 1826—the celebration of the country’s 50th birthday on the Fourth of July—remained dry at West Point. Some of the cadets vowed, however, that the superintendent’s rigid alcohol policy would not prevent them from celebrating a Christmas tradition in which they imbibed the holiday spirit by adding some spirits to homemade eggnog. To prepare for their Yuletide drinking party, cadets snuck in gallons of whiskey, brandy, rum and wine they had procured from local grog shops. Three students even secreted across the Hudson River in a boat to buy whiskey from a tavern on the opposite bank.
Among the party animals was one teenage cadet, Jefferson Davis, who from the start of his tenure at West Point in 1824 had exhibited a fondness for booze and a rebellious streak that foreshadowed his later role as president of the Confederacy. During his first year at the Military Academy, Hitchcock had caught Davis at the notorious tavern run just off campus by Benny Havens, whom future cadet Edgar Allan Poe would call “the sole congenial soul in the entire God-forsaken place.” A court-martial found Davis guilty, but his prior good conduct saved him from expulsion. In August 1826, Davis endured a lengthy hospitalization after falling down a 60-foot ravine while hurrying back to campus from Havens’s tavern after hearing that a superior was en route.
The future Confederate president was among the first participants in the party, which swelled in size as the night grew longer. At 4 A.M., the noise pouring through the floorboards was so loud that it stirred Hitchcock from his sleep. He left his room and wandered the halls “to ascertain if there was any disorder in the barrack” and found 13 partying cadets in room number five.
Exhibiting the poorest of timings, a drunken Davis burst through the doorway to warn his friends, “Put away the grog, Captain Hitchcock is coming!” The captain, of course, was already there. Hitchcock arrested Davis, ordered him to his room and then read the cadets the Riot Act, which declared any group of 12 or more to be unlawfully assembled.
The cadets, however, decided to take wreak vengeance against the perceived party pooper. They threw sticks of wood against Hitchcock’s door and tossed rocks through his windows. Dozens of cadets ran through the halls with swords, muskets and bayonets. One fired a pistol as Hitchcock attempted to break down a door. Two superior officers were assaulted in the ensuing melee, which Davis missed because he was either passed out in his room or had the good sense not to leave it. The riotous behavior did not abate until Worth arrived.
When the reveille sounded at 6:05 A.M. on Christmas morning, the sober cadets who had rested well inside the South Barracks arose with military discipline. The North Barracks, however, exhibited quite a hangover. The disheveled dormitory sported broken windows, smashed furniture, banisters ripped from stairways and shattered plates, dishes and cups. The cadets who participated in what became known as the “Eggnog Riot” didn’t look much better as dawn broke.
Nearly one-third of the academy’s 260 cadets were involved in the free-for-all. Since expelling all of them would have been a crippling blow to the academy, still in its relative infancy, 22 of the cadets most deeply involved in the Eggnog Riot, including Davis, were placed under house arrest on the day after Christmas.
Following weeks of investigation, court-martial proceedings began on January 26, 1827, against 19 cadets and one soldier. Davis was spared, possibly for his immediate compliance with Hitchcock’s orders, and eventually released from house arrest after six weeks’ confinement. For more than a month, a tribunal of professors and soldiers heard testimony from 167 witnesses, including from cadet Robert E. Lee, who didn’t partake in any of the mischief but spoke in defense of some of his classmates.
The courts-martial lasted until mid-March. All 19 defendants were found guilty and sentenced to be dismissed. Eight, however, were saved by a recommendation of clemency, and five ended up graduating from West Point. Fifty-three cadets received lesser punishments.
By: Christopher Klein is the author of four books, including When the Irish Invaded Canada: The Incredible True Story of the Civil War Veterans Who Fought for Ireland’s Freedom and Strong Boy: The Life and Times of John L. Sullivan. His work has appeared in numerous publications, including The Boston Globe, The New York Times, and National Geographic Traveler. Follow Chris at @historyauthor.
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