12/24/2024
Our "Twas' the Night Before Christmas" Skook Version was a hit many year ago, but it was time to rewrite it.
'Twas the night before Christmas, in little ole Schuylkill's County,
Where I just finished all the Boilo my wife would allow me
The coal trucks stood silent, their work now at rest,
As the moonlight shone softly on the anthracite’s crest.
The stockings were hung by the coal stove with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The residents dreamt sweetly, their hearts full of cheer,
Of bleenies, pierogies, and Yuengling Beer.
And Ma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a Coal Region nap.
When over town there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the coal dust gave an inky black glow,
To the snow-covered peaks of the Blue Mountain below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sleigh full of goods from the region so dear!
With a jolly old driver, lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than kielbasi lovers he came,
And he whistled and shouted and called borough's by name:
"Now Shendo! Now Tamaqua! Now Pottsville, on Mahanoy!
On Guntown! On Cumbola! The Coal Region brings me so much joy!
To the peak of Peach Mountain, to the valley's low sprawl,
Dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As soot from the chimneys before a storm flies,
The sleigh cut through the coal dust that hung in the skies.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each sturdy hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the stovepipe St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in flannel, his boots black as coal,
And he carried a sack filled with some coal region soul.
Lebanon bologna, from Seltzer’s so fine,
And Mrs. T’s pierogies for our Christmas-time.
A case of Yuengling was slung on his back,
With a fruit cake snug in his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks like red coal ash, his nose like a cherry!
A bottle of Boilo he pulled from his sack,
And left it for warmth when the cold makes you crack.
The citrus and spices, the honey and flair,
Made Christmas feel cozy in the Coal Region air.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his task,
Filling stockings with tasties from the Coal Region’s past.
Screamers from Tony's, Pizza from Pottsville Pizzeria, and a TastyKakes sweet,
Coal candy and flitch—a Christmastime treat.
He gave a quick nod, and up the pipe he rose,
Leaving behind just the scent of the coals.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a freshly shot missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas, Schuylkill County, and to all a good night!”
