I was given permission to cross post this from a column by Doug Love... posted in our local newspaper but not put online. I do have his verification that is is a true first person story, no urban myth...though it reads as one, enjoy.
Every time I hear “Blue Christmas” by Elvis I think of my wily old mentor KDV, when he tricked me one Christmas season.
“Hey bro, come with me to Shanty Town and help me take a census,” said KDV.
Shanty Town was a group of little run-down houses, more like shacks, on an acre of ground just east of downtown occupied by migrant agricultural workers. KDV had the property listed for sale, and the out-of-town owner never set foot on it. The rent always came every month, though.
“I’ve had this junk-heap listed for over a year, and miracle of all miracles, we have a buyer. The problem is I have to come up with tenant information. You with me, babe?”
We pulled into the property. December rains had pounded the dirt into gooey mud which covered every bit of land the houses didn’t.
“I hate this place,” he said. “Count heads, babe.”
We knocked on the first door. “Buenos días,” said KDV. “Cuantos personas occupado aqui? His Spanish was worse than John Wayne’s. A man in cowboy boots and a t-shirt looked back with fear in his eyes. Three kids sat quietly on the floor. The place had one chair. “No se,” said the man.
KDV and I appeared so out of place, we could have been from Mars, or worse, the Immigration Department or I.R.S.
Each little house was the same: lots of kids, few possessions, and lots of fear. Nevertheless, we were given tamales and hand-made tortillas as peace offerings. Skinny Christmas trees stood in a couple shacks, and some had a few decorations.
“What a dump,” KDV said at the end of our excursion. I was struck by his lack of empathy.
The next Saturday, KDV asked me again to go with him to Shanty Town, because the buyer wasn’t satisfied with the tenant information. The sale was supposed to close before the year-end.
“It’s the weekend,” he said. “Better chance to catch them all at home.”
We pulled into the mud again. This time KDV opened all his car doors and cranked up the car stereo, blasting out “Blue Christmas” by Elvis.
He jumped out and whipped open the trunk, shouting “Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad!”
The trunk was stuffed with wrapped Christmas presents. On each was written niña, niño, señor, or señorita. There must have been a hundred wrapped gifts: games, crayons, candy, toy guns, balls, you name it. We all laughed and celebrated.
KDV turned to me and shouted over Elvis. “Thought I was the Grinch, didn’t you, babe!”
Yes, I had. “Never forget, babe,” he said, “we gotta make people happy whenever we can; especially kids, and especially at Christmastime!”
MORE from Author: Ha! Yes, all true. No urban myth here. KDV was an amazing guy and very wise. He knew I was soft-hearted and that he could appear otherwise. So he faked me out with his apparent lack of empathy. The truth is, he was the most soft-hearted person you could find, and he gave his heart to people everywhere. He also loved music, was a great pianist himself, and Blue Christmas was his favorite Christmas song.
Thanks for your interest in my writing!
Doug Love
HERE is link to YouTube of Elvis Video... whew! not too bad looking was he?
http://youtu.be/...