I grew up on the north side of Alpena (Taylor Street, to be exact). We had a very busy and noisy house. There were three boys and three girls, my mom and dad, three bedrooms, and one bathroom (ugh), and we were always coming and going.

My mom and dad owned their own butcher shop, worked very hard, and raised six children.

We were a large, Catholic family, like a lot who grew up on the north side of Alpena, went to the old St. Mary’s School, which is now their parking lot, walked in the freezing cold to school (and not uphill all the way), and walked home in the 10 feet of snow that fell while we were in school.

Christmas every year was obviously very busy. Knowing how busy I am at Christmas, I will never know how my mom got out and shopped for all six of us.

Santa always showed up on Christmas Eve, and that is when we unwrapped our gifts.

Christmas Day was the day we needed to reflect on what the true meaning of Christmas was about. We went to Mass, came home, and had a large breakfast, just like we did every Sunday.

So, getting back to Christmas Eve, sometimes Santa would show up at our door and why he had a belt in his hand, I could never figure out. Maybe it was a warning that we had better like our gift.

So this is where the YELLOW JACKET comes in.

I was about 9 or 10 years old, still kind of believing in Santa Claus. My sister, Kathy, or brother, Mike, would hand out the gifts (I think because they were oldest, they did that).

I was handed this large, flat, but light box, and had a million thoughts going through my head before I opened it.

Oh, boy, maybe some new pajamas, or a sweater, or something other than what I pulled out of that box.

Much to my surprise was this long yellow jacket with red and blue stripes down the front.

My first thought was, “Mom, what were you thinking?”

My second thought was, “Sue, remember Santa Claus had a belt in his hand.”

And my third thought was that I had no choice other than to wear that yellow jacket with red and blue stripes.

The day after Christmas, us kids put on our skates at home, like we always did, and skated on the road to McRae Park. It was always really cold back then, we always had a ton of snow, and I was stuck with that yellow jacket with red and blue stripes.

Through that long, cold winter, that yellow, striped jacket kept me warm through thick and thin, and, by the end of the winter season, we became very good friends.

I actually couldn’t wait until the following winter to put on that jacket again.

So, in ending, my story was life’s lesson. Never judge anything by your first impression. You need to take a big step back, take a good look, give it a chance, and, eventually, you will come to love what you thought you may never have liked at all.

— Sue (Kruczynski)

Wilson, Alpena