Ex-diplomat recalls past holidays

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BANGOR – Remembering Christmases past, Don Horan knew about a time when Santa Claus came to town on an elephant.

During the 1950s, as a member of the foreign service in Madras, India, Horan and the rest of the American staff would put on a Christmas party for the local employees’ children.

Perched atop an elephant that he borrowed from the film company across the road and wearing a red and white suit and carrying a sack bulging with gifts, Horan often found himself playing Santa.

Once, just as he was shouting “Ho, ho, ho,” his brand new, leather-heeled black riding boots gave way on the consulate’s slippery marble floor. Down he went!

The children, thinking it was part of the act, convulsed in laughter. Luckily, the only thing hurt was his pride.

Relaxing Saturday in their sun-filled apartment at Boyd Place, Horan, 78, and his wife, Toni, 75, were more than happy to reminisce about how they spent the holidays during their 28-year stint in India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Horan was, at various times, vice consul, consul, political attache and public affairs officer. Boyd Place is the new seniors’ residence adjacent to the Phillips-Strickland House.

Improvisation was the name of the game, the couple said.

In West Pakistan, a sleigh pulled by reindeer would have been incongruous. So Santa made his entrance sitting behind the hump of a camel.

“I didn’t like them – they were bad-tempered and they smelled,” Horan said.

With his pink-cheeked visage surrounded by a snow-white beard, Horan even now bears a close resemblance to jolly old St. Nick.

In fact, back then, Horan owed his Santa Clauslike whiskers to a vendor at the local bazaar, and his colorful outfit to a tailor who copied it from a picture.

Dressing up as Santa was the last thing on Horan’s mind during Christmas 1971, when the hostilities between West Pakistan and India forced him and Toni, and their then 14-year-old son, Rob, to take refuge in Teheran, Iran.

Directed to limit baggage to 20 pounds, Toni was loathe to leave behind her considerable assortment of earrings.

In the end, she used up most of her allocation for jewelry.

It was lucky she did, too. Determined to evoke a modicum of holiday spirit, the family somehow got hold of a tiny tree that looked especially festive with Toni’s earrings hanging from its branches.

Dollops of shaving cream placed strategically about the tree made for authentic-looking snow.

Thanks to the British influence in India and West Pakistan, canned ham was always available for Christmas dinners.Dreaming hungrily of a different entree, the family once purchased a goose from the bazaar, intent upon fattening it up for the big day.

But the plans took a sharp detour after Rob named her Matilda, built her a little house and found her a mate he called Albert.

“She led a long and healthy life,” Don Horan, said, grinning.

Someone else was happy with the arrangement. Since Matilda and Albert could be counted upon to provide a cacophony at the slightest sound, the night watchman finally was able to get some sleep.

The Horans recalled other aspects of their lives abroad.

The maharajis of India, princes who ruled the country’s chief states, were prone to a great many eccentricities, according to Don Horan. One collected giants, he said cryptically. Actually, they were the royal bodyguards – 18 of them, each fully 7 feet tall.

Once, as their station wagon inched along the crowded streets, the Horans peered out of the window straight into the belly button of one of the huge men.

The family’s German shepherd, an intrepid watchdog, which also was in the vehicle, was so flabbergasted that his typical blustery growl was reduced to a timorous whimper, said Don Horan, chuckling.

Recollections of the couple’s former life wouldn’t be complete without discussing the animals that proliferated in the area.

Madras has the largest rats in the world, according to Horan. Known as bandicoots, they’re the size of small cats, he said, “ugly with long naked tails.”

But the mongooses that lived in the bushes around the social clubs could be relied upon to catch them.

“That was their job and they knew it,” said Horan.

Getting rid of the cobras that occasionally surfaced took a different kind of expertise. The guli-guli men, as they were called, would be paid to play music and coax the reptiles away, according to Horan.

But they’d always come with a spare snake tucked away somewhere. That way, payment was still ensured, even if your particular cobra hadn’t been caught.

A cobra that became tangled around the axle of the car once caused considerable consternation for the family’s butler.

The loyal servant was adamant that he keep the snake, since its skin was worth the equivalent of a day’s salary.

But Toni Horan was just as steadfast against the idea.

In the end, the family reimbursed the distraught servant for the profit he would have made.

One of the funniest sights would occur periodically when an elephant’s trunk could be seen slowly rising over the gate that surrounded the nearby movie studio.

Expertly releasing the latch, the animal would lumber out and make its way across the street, the Horans recalled.

In its wake would be the inevitable rash of servants, determined to bring the gentle animal back home.

World travelers, the Horans said they’re excited to be home for Christmas for the first time in 12 years. They’re particularly thrilled with their new apartment overlooking the Penobscot River.

“The view is spectacular 24 hours a day,” Don Horan said. “Brewer looks something like San Francisco; I’m amazed at how bright it is at night.”

But the couple isn’t sure about how long they’ll stay put.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Don Horan said. “We’ve got itchy feet.”