Tonight, people around the world will be celebrating the end of 2025 and the beginning of 2026. For a few days, I’ll have to remind myself to write the new year each time I jot down the date.
While I was growing up, my parents celebrated by attending a dance and I, an only child, had to tag along. One year when I was in grade school, I remember their friends, Myron and Ruth, picking us up when the thermometer read 20 below. At least, we got into a warm car. I made a mental note to remember that night so when I grew to dating age, my parents could never convince me it was too cold to go out.
When Ken and I were young marrieds, there was a year when it was 20 below but our friends, Billy and Mickey, accompanied us to a Loves Park nightclub for dinner and an evening of entertainment. I still remembered that long ago, frigid night going out with my parents.
Our most memorable celebration was 1954 – 55, when we were teenagers. Ken had joined the U.S. Navy and was home on leave for the holidays. To begin the evening, his long-time pal, Wayne, driving his Ford, picked up his girlfriend, Gloria, plus Ken and me to attend the movie, “White Christmas,” at the Coronado theater in Rockford. After that, we stopped in Durand at the dance in the Grange Hall to join the crowd welcoming the new year with paper hats, cardboard horns and tin noisemakers. That event ended at 3 a.m. By then we were hungry and drove south to the mile-corner where The Hilltop remained open to serve revelers. After we ate cheeseburgers, I arrived home at 4 a.m. and kissed Ken good-bye. In a few hours, he would fly away–I didn’t know how long before I would see him again.
When I got out of bed at noon on New Year’s Day, I was in the doghouse with my mother for getting home so late. I didn’t care–it had been worth it to spend the time with Ken.
We no longer go out to celebrate New Year’s Eve. It’s an effort to stay up and watch TV until the ball drops in New York’s Times Square and our clock reads 11 p.m.
Do you celebrate New Year’s Eve?