The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present

I was chatting with someone just a few days ago. I asked them what their plans were for Christmas and they asked me mine.

Oh...how times have changed.

When I was little, my grandparents were the center of the universe and wherever they were - that's where Christmas was.

Initially, Christmas was at the apartment building - 808 Clay Street.

(Pictured: Wayne E. Roy, Irene Roy, Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier - Christmas 1967)

Everyone - my Aunts (Carolyn and Barb), their husbands (Jim and Bob), and my parents, plus me, my sister, and eventually my two cousins - Wendy and Cindy...we all gathered here and celebrated Christmas.

Church was a priority. My great-grandmother (Helena Starost Roy Kline) was a devout catholic and my Grandpa and his three daughters were obedient attenders of catholic mass - especially on Christmas. Cathedral was just a hop, skip and a jump away - which was good because we could walk there and back from the apartment building.

As you can see from this picture, my grandpa is dressed up. This was his "Sunday suit" - or at least that is what I called it. He wasn't one to wear fancy things - but you could count on the suit coming out for Christmas, Easter, weddings, funerals, and baptisms :).

My grandma wasn't much of a church goer. She would stay behind - busying herself in the kitchen. You could always count on pleasant smells (and sometimes unusual as my grandma was known to stray from the typical Christmas feast).

My grandparents moved to Jackson, Michigan sometime in the early 70's.

Even though my family (and Aunt Carolyn's) was in Fort Wayne and Aunt Barb's was in Elkhart - it was never doubted that we would all travel up to Jackson, Michigan and celebrate Christmas together as a family.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Cindy Baughman, Wendy Welker - Christmas 1975)

We would usually drive up the day / night before so that my mom and aunt's could help my grandma with all of the cooking.

Grandpa liked to sit in his big, overstuffed brown recliner chair, watching his black and white television, smoking his cigar.

The four cousins - well - we had an absolute blast! I have to tell you that only having one sibling at the time (my sister) was boring and frustrating. Getting to hang with Cindy and Wendy was awesome because it was fresh blood to pick on! Normally though, we'd play board games, dress- up, go out side and sled, etc....There was never a time where we sat around and asked to go home. Being at grandma and grandpa's house was always awesome.

This is where I distinctly remember the grown-ups and kids table. The grown-ups sat around the dining room table and the four girls - well - we got our own table. It was a 4 x 4 card table with folding chairs to boot.

(Pictured: Patricia S. Frazier, Frank Frazier - Christmas dining room table, 1975)

Some other traditions that stand out for me - my grandma allowing us to pick one ornament from the tree to take home and my grandpa getting on the floor and handing out the gifts, one by one. As a kid whose family struggled to make ends meet, Christmas was the motherload from a gift perspective. The night before we opened gifts - none of us girls could hardly sleep.

In the late 70's, my grandparents moved back to Fort Wayne and they lived in the Sheridan Court Apartments on Union Street.

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Frank Frazier, Patricia S. Frazier, Patricia J. Frazier, Jason Frazier - Christmas 1978)

This was the very last Christmas that we would spend together as a family unit - that is - me, my siblings, and my parents. My parents split up a month after this and everything in our lives changed.

Despite my parents divorce (and my two aunt's all divorcing and re-marrying), my grandparents had this unspoken thing about keeping the Christmas tradition alive.

In the early eighties, they moved to a house on Third Street. And even though I was in high school and my sister, and cousins were also moving up into "that age", the Christmas tradition was not to be messed with.

The main difference about the house on Third Street is that instead of just visiting it, I also lived there for a period of time. It didn't ruin my excitement about seeing everyone and by this time, I was starting to like some of my grandma's weird food selections :).

(Pictured: Kristina Frazier, Cindy Wilkins, Wendy Welker, Patty Frazier - Christmas 1985)

This picture here - is extremely precious to me. It's the very last photo of me, my sister, and my two cousins...taken with my grandfather. Five months later, he would become very ill and less than a year after that, he died.

Christmas has not been the same since.

My grandma lost the spring in her step and eventually, we all drifted away.

There have been a couple times that an effort has been made for all of us to get together.


(Pictured: Cyndi Wilkins, Kristina Frazier - Christmas, 1994?)

But most of the time, it doesn't happen. Some of it had to do with the strain in the relationships between sisters (my mom and two aunts) and sometimes it was just a question of other obligations and/or distance that some lived away from Fort Wayne.

To be quite honest, there have been several times - holiday or not holiday - where I have chosen not to take part in a family get together because of my own anxiety. Since the death of my grandfather and the multiple changes that my cousins have gone through - I just don't know how to "be" around them. For years, my sister, Cindy, and Wendy - we were glue for each other...Through the second round of siblings (ugh - all boys!), to the divorce of our parents (and their subsequent remarriages). The multiple moves, the multiple dysfunctions of the family (i.e. drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, sexual abuse, depression...). The boyfriends, the jobs, the cars, the booze...

Now, it is as if we don't even know each other.

So you remember, at the beginning of this entry, I said that I was chatting with someone about what our plans were for the Christmas holiday...

After I told this person what I was doing, all of these memories came flooding back to me (in about a span of four seconds). I remember writing to her, "it's bizarre how relationships change over time". That was my way to acknowledge that my Christmas has a definite hole in it. The absence of my grandfather, the silent treatment from my father, and the evaporated relationships that used to be - Me, Patty, Cindy, Wendy.

Wells and Third Street - Then & Before Then

PTC Bus Stop

Corner of Wells Street and Third Street

Fort Wayne, Indiana 46808

My Grandparents (my mother's parents) lived in Fort Wayne almost their entire life (with the exception of a few years where they lived in Jackson, Michigan).

My Grandpa was born and raised in Fort Wayne. He always lived in the downtown area - Main Street, Clay Street, DeWald, Union Street.

The last house that my Grandparents lived in (before Grandpa died) was on Third Street. They picked it because it was a duplex, it had a huge yard, and it was within walking distance of everything that they cared about.

I've mentioned before that my Grandparents didn't drive. Ever. They always got around on foot or - sometimes - we took the bus. When they lived on Third Street, this is the bus stop we used to stand next to in order to catch the PTC bus.

As you can see from this picture, it almost looks "park" like. It has two nice benches and beautiful shade trees. I remember when those shade trees weren't tall enough to shade anything. And one day, while waiting on the bus to pick us up, I mentioned to Grandpa that they should have planted bigger trees so we had some shade during the hot weather.

That's when he told me about why these trees were so brand new.

It turns out, that just a few years before, a Firehouse - specifically Firehouse #6 - used to occupy the space that we were standing on.

A Firehouse?! Neat!

Me: But what happened to the firehouse? Did it not have enough fires to put out?

Grandpa: The city needed to put that firehouse out on Coliseum Boulevard. People moved out of the inner parts of our city to the suburbs and in case there are fires out in the new parts of the city, they've got a fire house close by.

Me: How come there can't be both (fire stations)?

Grandpa: Sometimes, when you only have one pot of money to pull from, you have to make a decision - one or the other.

He told me that it was built in the late 1800's and that before there were shiny trucks - there were horses which used to take the firemen and their equipment to whatever establishment needed them.

Me: Wow! Horses used to walk on these streets?!

You can tell, I was easily fascinated as a child :).

As I drove by this spot this weekend, I stopped and took the picture you see at the beginning of this blog entry. I sat on one of the bench's and I thought about the time that I spent in this area as a child. You never think - in the moment - how much time you spend "waiting" for something (and back then - it was a bus) and how those moments are great pockets of opportunities that should never go to waste.

In my case, I was such an inquisitive child and I often wonder - if handheld games and other modern things were around then - would I have turned them off and had these types of conversations with my Grandparents (especially as we walked downtown or waited for the bus)?

Sadly - probaby not. So I guess I'm thankful that my Grandparents didn't drive. I'm thankful that the PTC bus program operated during that time, and I'm thankful that my parents let me spend oodles of time with my mom's parents.

1401 Wells Street - Firehouse No. 6 - 1920

1401 Wells Street - Firehouse No. 6 - 1975

Greyhound Union Bus Terminal

Greyhound Union Bus Terminal
Jefferson Street
Fort Wayne, Indiana

Photo Credit: Postcard from mid 60's

There was a short period of time when my grandparents lived away from us - in Jackson, Michigan. I don't know the exact dates however, sometime in the early 70's rings a bell for me.

I remember the economy not being all that good and my grandparents moved out of town for some job that Grandpa had accepted at a place called the Wayne Box Company (?).

Since neither one of them could drive, they would take the Greyhound Bus to Fort Wayne and I would ride along with my mom and dad to pick them up

The Greyhound Bus Station was gorgeous...its 1940's art deco architecture was quite unique - but as a child who was probably 6 or 7 years old at the time when I visited the place the most - I took its beauty for granted. Located on Berry Street, the Bus Station was a cool place for a kid like me to hang out.

If I could cajole some loose change from my parents, I would sit on the plastic chairs with those tiny television attached and carefully place my coins inside the silver turnstyle - full of anticipation for when the television would magically turn on.

The television stations were of course - the same ones we got at home (15,21, and 33) but being able to have it there...attached to a public chair - WOW! What a huge treat for a kid!!! Sure, you had to click on dial but you had to do that at home too. And sure, it only stayed on for about 20-30 minutes but hey, that was okay too.

When we didn't have the change to watch the televisions, my sister and I would run up and down the stairs, chasing each other across the open areas of the terminal. There was lots of echo to be had and in place that didn't frown on loud noises, it was nice to be able to yell, hear your voice bounceback - and all - in the presence of your parents who didn't yell at you for it.

As each bus would arrive, a voice would come over the loud speaker announcing its presence.

I loved looking at the buses. They weren't like the ones that we rode to school in.

These were HUGE. If you were sitting in one, it was like sitting on top of the world. The buses (which I would ride myself a few times in the 70's and even twice in the 80's), were air conditioned... HUGE DEAL to us chicks who didn't have air conditioning in either our parents cars or houses. There was also a bathroom too!

The buses would pull up in a diagnoal direction and when their grand doors opened, it was a spectacular event.

The driver, all dressed in his crisp uniform, would exit the bus and proceed to the side (opening up one of the silver side doors where additional luggage was stored) as the passengers would step down to greet their family members.

My grandparents were always towards the front - I guess - so they could stay away from any of the riff raff :). It never got old seeing them step down from those bus stairs. I would run into the arms of my grandma - who always smelled like ivory soap. Her skin was soooo soft and her hair was red and shiny.My grandpa always smelled like his cigars (which in a bizarre twist - I never minded - in fact - I came to like the scent very much). He would always give me a quick squeeze but he knew that I was grandma's girl and that she and I had some very serious hugging to do (which we proceeded to do - in the car - on the way home - I sat on her lap).

My grandparents would stay at our house for about five days at a time. Eventually though, they had to return and the trip back to the big blue building on Jefferson Street was something I never looked forward to. Saying goodbye was hard hard hard.

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So as many of you know, the Greyhound Union Bus Terminal in Fort Wayne, Indiana no longer exists.

It was torn down in the 80's (had sat vacant for years prior) to make way for new construction efforts.

It's sad that a building which held so many memories for so many families in Fort Wayne - fell by the way side - and was scrapped for new construction. If it had only fallen under the historical society like the baker street depot - wow - we might have something cool - a restaurant - some other entertainment facility within those art deco walls today.




Greyhound relocated to a different facility - to an old gas station facility located at the corner of Berry and Clay (across from City Glass?).