Old Man Gene is my neighbor and lives across the street from us. He lives with his daughter, Melissa, son-in-law, Brian, and their two kids, Benjamin and Maxwell. His given name is Eugene Pomeroy but the name doesn’t fit him at all. When I think of a Eugene I think of a scrawny, nerdy, bespectacled person. That’s not Gene. Instead he’s thin-haired, kind of heavy-set with a paunchy stomach from drinking too much beer, and has a gravelly voice. I guess you could say he’s a man’s man.
He moved in about two years after we had all settled in when his wife died and Melissa finally talked him into moving in with her and the family. Her house is perfect for them all because there are two master suites and Gene settled in to the one on the first floor. He has his own bedroom, sitting area with fireplace, and bathroom. He made his living as a carpenter and woodworker. Most of the time, you can find him in the garage tinkering. His work is amazing and each of us neighbors have at least one item in our houses that Gene has made.
Old Man Gene and the Neighborhood Kids
When Gene first arrived at our little lane, he was more of a Grumpy, Old Man Gene who kept to himself a lot. I guess you do that when the love of your life dies and your world is upended. But when he found out Tom was from the same part of Illinois as he was, he started opening up a little. You see Tom was born and raised in Freeport and Gene was from Rockford. Their high schools were rivals and they teased each other often. Tom called Gene “Rab” which is the nickname for Rockford East High School and Old Man Gene called Tom “Pretzel,” the nickname of Freeport High School.
Despite his gruff exterior to the adults, he’s a big teddy bear to the kids. In fact, he’s the resident grandpa. He’s a different person when any kid is around. They all love him and he loves them back. He’s a Pied Piper to all the boys. When the boys were younger, you would see them marching down the street behind Gene as they headed to the park where he coached them in their football skills. In addition, many a time Old Man Gene would be sitting on a blanket in the front yard attending a tea party with the girls. Furthermore, each boy received a uniquely-made baseball bat from Gene. And the girls each had their own jewelry boxes designed by Gene.
Old Man Gene as Santa
Although Gene was a softy to the kids, he also was stern with them. In his own creative ways he got the kids attention and made sure they did the right thing. An example of that gentle sternness happened one Christmas season at our house. There was a knock at the door. I answered it and my mouth dropped opened. There stood Old Man Gene dressed as Santa Claus. I hardly recognized him in the satiny red suit, full white beard and mustache, wire-rimmed glasses, and buffalo-plaid Santa hat. He winked at me.
“Is Matthew Crabtree home?” he said in a deep voice.
“Yes, he is, Santa,” I replied, getting my wits back. “Matthew, “ I called to the kitchen. “Someone’s here to see you.”
Matthew who was five at the time came around the corner eating a cookie. “Yeah, Mom? Who is…” He stopped dead in his tracks and the cookie fell to the floor. He stood there gawking.
“Matthew Crabtree?” Gene asked.
Matthew nodded unable to do anything else.
Gene continued. “I hear tell that you don’t believe in me.” He took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I have a note here that says you’ve been going around telling other kids that I don’t exist. That I’m only a fairy tale. Is that true? Are you saying that about me?”
Matthew nodded again.
Not a Nice Thing
“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to do, is it?”
Matthew shook his head back and forth.
“Why that kind of thing will get you on the naughty list and you won’t get any presents from me nor anyone else. Furthermore, your stocking will be full of coal. Do you want that to happen?”
Matthew, again, shook his head.
“Good. Because I don’t want that to happen either. I want all boys and girls to be nice. Christmas Eve is the happiest day of the year for me. It brings me joy bringing presents to all the houses. Makes me sad to have to skip houses and you don’t want me to be sad and skip your house, do you?”
Matthew shook his head again.
“Okay. So I don’t want to hear anymore nonsense of you not believing.” Gene walked over to Matthew and knelt to his eye level. “Remember Matthew, I know everything about you. I know when you do bad things. However, I also know when you do good things. And I want to hear more good things than bad, got it?”
Matthew nodded and Gene gently hugged him.
And One More Thing
“One more thing,” Gene continued. “You be good to your little sister, Laurel. After all, you’re her big brother and it’s your responsibility to make sure no one messes with her. You make sure everyone treats her right. Otherwise, she’ll have no one to protect her. Understand?”
“Yes, Santa,” Matthew weakly said, finally finding his voice.
Then Gene and stood back up. He gave me a slight bow as he exited the house. He turned around at the doorstep. “Good night, Mrs. Crabtree. I hope Matthew doesn’t give you any more trouble nor spread any more rumors about me.”
I smiled. “Good night, Santa. And thank you.”
I shut the door hearing Gene shouting “Ho, ho, ho!” as he walked down the street. Was there another child who needed a visit from Santa? I never heard if there was.
Since Then
Over the years, we did have more trouble from Matthew. After all, he was a normal boy who liked to test the boundaries. But Santa never made a personal visit again. And on all those following Christmas mornings, there were presents for him from Santa.
Still to this day, Matthew often mentions the visit from Santa. “Who was Santa?” he always ask me.
My answer has always been the same. “It was Santa, Matthew. Who else could it be?”
On the whole, I don’t know if he wanted confirmation or if he honestly never figured it out. But I’m not telling. Once in a while we all need a little magic and mystery in our lives. Don’t you agree?