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| THE THREE ARTICLES BELOW WERE WRITTEN BY STEVEN FROMHOLZ -- JUST CLICK ON THE LINK TO READ THEM! |
| "There's good times and there's bad times -- but there's still time" - - Steven Fromholz |
| A few weeks after suffering a stroke (April, 2003) Steven agreed to an interview with Jeff Prince, Feature Writer for Ft. Worth Weekly. Jeff won the coveted Lone Star Press Club's Feature of the Year Award for this first interview story. He returned to interview Steven again in 2005 at Larry Joe Taylor's Melody Mountain Ranch. As we've not gone into great detail on the "coming back" years we thought you might like to read Jeff's stories as it pretty well covers what's gone on to get back to NOW! Just click on each link. |
| Steven Fromholz'... Christmas Facts & Fiction... |
| Jeff Prince's 2003 article: |
| Jeff Prince's 2005 article: |
| You are listening to... The Fairest of Fairweather Friends Artist: Steven Fromholz CD: Live At Anderson Fair |
| CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE WITH GRANDMA I remember my first Christmas 'adventure' with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!" My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She snorted... "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car. " Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough - he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the clerk asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever, officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just whatGrandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95. (We have been unable to find who authored this wonderful tale. We wanted to share it with you and we are searching for the author diligently as he/she should have credit for such a wonderful Christmas Story! Should you have information as to the author's identity, please let us know.) MAY YOU HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A BLESSED AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! Steven Fromholz & Staff |