Through An 'Old Timer's' Eyes
By Howard 'Mac' McDonald

It's not safe to say that we won't see any more snow this season, but I hope we don't. It was late in coming, so it may also be late in leaving.

Easter Sunday will soon be upon us and the preachers will talk about the last days in the life of Jesus. Last Saturday, we had the honor of attending the Passion Play at the Coudersport Consistory. It is hard to find the words to describe how impressive it was.

All of those involved are to be commended for their attention to detail. Emporium was represented by Dennis Neal as a Roman soldier and choir members Susie Gribble, Mark McLean, Ken Ostrum and Walt Holly.

Easter is the most important day of the Christian faith. The traditional Easter egg represents the new life. Many communities treat their children to an Easter egg hunt. President Rutherford B. Hayes in 1878 welcomed children to the White House lawn for an Easter egg roll.

My memories of the holiday drift back to 1960 at Hahn Air Base in Germany. My two older sons and a friend were all excited about the Easter egg hunt there. As we headed out the door, I told the boys not to run down the steps. I should have saved my breath.

My oldest son Howard, at the rear of these out-of-control kids, didn't make the turn at the stairwell's first landing and went head-first into the concrete wall. Worse yet, he was wearing a German hat covered with pins that depicted scenes from all over Europe. One of the pins was embedded in his skull.

So much for the Easter egg hunt. We headed for the emergency room and they quickly stitched the wound.

On our way back, the hunt was just ready to start. Those kids barreled out of the car. They missed the pre-hunt briefing, but they didn't miss the eggs.

What they didn't know at the time was that two of the eggs could be turned in for a big cash prize.

The emcee announced, "Would the boy or girl who found the golden egg please come forward to collect your 50 dollars?" No one responded.

Meanwhile, Howard kept pulling at my coat sleeve. Finally, I looked down at him.

"Dad, I found the golden egg," he said.

I told him to hurry and turn it in for the big cash prize.

"I can't," he responded. "I ate it."

I had heard of the goose that laid the golden egg, but this was the first time I heard of a boy who ate the golden egg.

During my childhood, Easter was a time to get new clothes and wear them to church that Sunday. My dad always bought my mom a big chocolate-covered candy egg and a box of candy. We had our own chickens, so we always had plenty of eggs to color.

My Easter basket always had a big chocolate bunny and every year, the ears were the first part to go.

When I was six years old, inside my Easter basket was a live baby duck, dyed all kinds of colors. Being a Walt Disney fan, I named him Donald. He stayed in a bushel basket behind Mom's large coal range. During the day, he'd roam our yard, but at night he loved the safety of that basket.

Donald dined with our chickens and grew quickly. One morning I went to get him and there was a large white egg in his basket. I figured out that Donald wasn't a "he." For the rest of his life, he was Daisy.

Easter parades used to be a big tradition but they seem to have gone by the wayside. Many of us old-timers recall the musical, "Easter Parade," with Judy Garland and it's popular theme song by the name: "Put on your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it. You'll be the sweetest lady in the Easter parade."

Jim Beck in Rich Valley called to report that on March 23 he heard the peepers. That must mean spring is officially here.