The Burns Nicht Supper will be another outstanding event this January. Make your reservations early, and pass the word to all you know who might like to attend. This year it will be a really Burns filled evening, with readings, songs, stories, and more. Plan to attend!

As 2006 draws to a close, and 2007 opens, we should take the time to reflect on our lives and the times in which we live. The year has seen much change in the world, the government, and in our own lives. We should give thanks for the good things we find in life, and not waste time complaining about the rest. To those enjoying good health and prosperity, I give my wish for more of the same. For those not so blessed, I wish you an improvement in your personal struggle, and the strength to deal with that which can not be changed. I wish good judgment and cooperation to the leaders of our country and other world leaders. I wish safe days and a soon return home to our armed forces in combat. I wish you all a safe and happy 2007.

by Michael MacNeill

At this festive season of giving and peace I can think of no better example of this spirit than the "Christmas Truce" of 1914. The British army had just launched an offensive on December 19th, the generals said to boost morale. This did nothing but cost lives, around 20,000 had died when it ended on the 23rd. The dawn of the 24th was quiet, but that night would resound through history.

The Germans had Christmas trees sent to the front, complete with decorations. That night they started putting them on the tops of their trenches. The British seeing this wondered, "oh what dirty trick" were their enemies up to. Then even stranger sounds came from the enemy trenches, songs (Christmas carols). Someone on the British side would recognize the tune and a few, at first, would take up singing it. Sometimes after a pause one side would sing, say…"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", and the reply might be, "Oh Tannenbaum", but it would end with "Stille Nacht" / "Silent Night" sung in two tongues.

Mind you, these young men were killing each other only the day before. The next day would be even more remarkable. It would start when, from the German side, one guy went into no-man’s land…the remarkable bit was that he went WITHOUT WEAPONS!!! Someone from the other side also came out. Then the officers had a parley in no-man’s land, initially to bury the dead. As they went about their unenviable task they would, as they took small breaks, start talking to each other and showing photos of loved ones: wives, girlfriends, and children. Some traded bits of kit, like buttons, caps, etc.

One Brit met a German who, up to a month before the war, worked as a barber in London in the shop next door to the shoe repair shop belonging to the Englishman’s father. One German had a Brit send a letter to the German’s British girlfriend. These kinds of exchanges went on all up and down the lines, though some of the sectors that were held by regular troops did not participate. It was so common that if the high command of either side had court-martialed them all, they would not have had an army. In one incident, a Scottish unit was facing a Saxon unit and they played football (soccer to us in America). The Saxons were amused that the Scots wore no underwear under their kilts.

They who lived that day said it was the most memorable of their lives. In subsequent years, this was not repeated. Sadly, even soccer took on a different meaning as it was used to motivate the men to push the attack.

If you are interested, there is a recent movie, Joyeux Noel, and a song entitled, "Christmas in the Trenches" on John McDermont’s CD, Remembrances.

This history was related during the summer of 1977. It was told by Mary Elliott Stacy (1895-1978) in her own words:

"I will tell you a little bit that I know from my father, which he was told by word of mouth from his father. My father’s name was Albert Burns Elliott, and his father was James Parker Elliott.

The Elliotts were a Scottish clan that was exiled from Scotland around the time of Bloody Mary. They were known then, and still are regarded today, as raiders. They went to Ireland and still are present there as McElloitts and O’Elliotts. During the benevolent reign of James I, two brothers of the clan, who had kept their original Elliott name, and had not accepted Catholicism, left Ireland and were followers of John Wesley’s new method of prayer. They tried to introduce it into the Anglican Church. You can imagine how far they got with that! So they and their offspring were invited to leave England and Scotland, again. They chose to try America. The two brothers Elliott came to America in 1630 with Lord Baltimore’s colony. This colony was Catholic, and had as its main purpose to establish the Church in Maryland. The Elliotts set out West to teach the Indians.

My father knew nothing of their activities except that they purchased the land from the Indians where the town of Hamilton, Ohio is now. They developed a small settlement there. Of their offspring, many were Methodist ministers, then called "Circuit Riders". Methodism was a fast growing denomination as the Country developed. You might say that they were the teachers and missionaries from 1630 to 1848.

All business, back then, was carried on by the barter system and horse trading. Preachers earned their way just like other men, their calling being just one of many things that they traded in. I know no details until 1848, when my Dad was born at Cairo, Illinois. His father, James P. Elliott, was a circuit rider in that area. He also owned a mill which ground corn, wheat, and the other grains for the area, which was, of course, agricultural. His wife’s name was Frances Sea, and she had come over from Ireland in 1845. So, you see that we do have some fresh Irish blood, and no telling what kind of blood those other circuit riders picked up along the way. As far as my father knew, they were all bent on teaching the Indians.

Albert Elliott also felt compelled to teach Indians, and was attending the college at Parson’s Illinois, just before the Civil War. This later became the University of Illinois. His mother died, and there was a rift between him and his father, who remarried immediately. He decided not to stay in school, got on his horse, and went West, to do what? Why, teach Indians, of course! Apparently, you didn’t need a diploma then. He went to the Indian Territories, which is now Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Missouri. He covered quite an area, it seems, and developed typhoid fever along the way. It was then an unpreventable plague, and, as was the custom if you took sick, he just stayed where he was. Post Civil War conditions being what they were, he didn’t have much choice. At least he managed to live through it, and met my mother. They were married in 1880. He gave up Indian teaching - I believe it was mostly because they ran out of Indians.

That was the period when the railroads were building through the West. He seemed to have the ability to supervise crews of workers, and he set up a homestead on the land where I was born. They built numerous log buildings and barns on the farm. These are not to be confused with log cabins, they had big fireplaces and plenty of wood in them. That place was called Butler Hollow, and is now part of Seligman, Missouri, located in the Ozark mountains. They also built a one room school house a mile down the road, which was a real luxury. Many other children had to walk for miles to get to school. My father continued to ride circuit, except he now followed where the railroad had jobs. He was home from time to time, and I acquired five brothers who had the resources of the land at their disposal. I can remember them, as young as 10 years old, taking care of the horses and doing all kinds of responsible work. They would never let their sisters work hard. I remember always having a big fire in the winter, while we ate popcorn and cracked nuts on the hearth stones. The hearth was native limestone, and was not so fancy or expensive as that we had to be careful of chipping it. For those wholesome thrifty years, I credit my wonderful brothers.

We girls learned to sew, spin, knit, and weave. One of the log buildings was called the smokehouse. It had a place for smoking meat, such as ham, venison, wild turkey, and other game. My brother Joe once killed a wild cat, but mostly their hunting was for food. Cooking was a skill. One did not use recipes, as one did not know what ingredients would be available on any given day. We had garden know-how, which my mother had learned from her stepfather, a Yankee from Pennsylvania - something which we had to live down. Most of our neighbors were hillbillies who had drifted in from the hills of Tennessee. We also kept sheep, and sheared them ourselves. We knew every process of preparation from shearing to spinning to weaving and knitting blankets and socks. We would mend them after they had been worn out. I don’t know why the loom was in a room on one side of the smokehouse, but to this day I think of woolen cloth and tasty food as being in the same category.

Farming was hard work, but farming my brothers did. The vegetables and fruit that we had was fabulous. That was before pests were known in the land. My brothers were always thinking in the winter of new sections of land to clear in the spring. No one worried about missing school, as we often had only four months of school in a year. Once we had six. I remember reading that they had NINE in Boston, I thought that must be heaven. I was a bookworm. My brothers thought that is was probably a good thing, but otherwise it went unnoticed. We just happened to be located on the Frisco Railroad Line, and would get the St. Louis Globe-Dispatch. I would read it cover to cover, and learned of the big wide world from that.

Our moral code was very strict. We always addressed our elders, teaches, and anyone over forty year old with , "Yes sir, No, Ma’am".

I have a son-in -law who likes to listen to my stories and says, "How could you say you were POOR!"