Recalling New Year's 'Billy-Ge-Good'
By Hillary Rodham Clinton
My first memory of New Year's Eve goes back to when I was around 6. My little brother and I were sitting in our kitchen eating a favorite dinner, poached eggs on corned beef hash. My mother came in, all dressed up to go out, and reminded us each to put one of our shoes outside our bedroom door before going to bed. That was so "Billy-Be-Good" could leave us a little present, like a toy car or a yo-yo, as encouragement to behave ourselves during the next year.
My mother doesn't know where she first heard about Billy-Be- Good, but she made him part of our family's New Year's tradition -- a tradition that my husband and I carried on when Chelsea was little.
Our baby sitter that night was our grandfather, Hugh S. Rodham. He asked my mother if we could stay up until midnight to celebrate. She reluctantly agreed, mostly, I think, because she never thought we'd last. Once she gave her permission though, we were determined, and our grandfather became our loyal conspirator.
I loved my grandfather for many reasons -- his infinite reserve of patience while reading us books or playing endless card games; his recipe for cocoa with honey that tasted better than any other drink; the way he defended us from our parents' reprimands, whether we deserved it or not.
I especially loved to hear him talk about his childhood. Grandpa came from England to Scranton, Penn. when he was about 4 years old with his parents and 10 brothers and sisters. When he was 11, he began working at the Scranton Lace Works and retired after 50 years. He used some funny expressions, such as, "I aren't do that," which no one else I knew said.
He also maintained old-fashioned customs, like dressing up for dinner every night in a suit, complete with watch chain. On that long-ago New Year's Eve, dressed in his suit, he told us how as a little boy he celebrated New Year's Eve by going outside at midnight and making noise by banging on pots and pans. He promised that if we stayed awake, we would do that together.
Well, to a 6-year-old who had never deliberately stayed up that late, his promise held out the prospect of unimagined adventure. I could hardly believe my good fortune and anxiously waited for the moment to arrive.
We played cards, mostly War, for my brother's sake. Then we watched our small-screen black-and-white television set. Finally, the countdown started, and we ran to the kitchen, grabbed our culinary noisemakers, put on our coats and rushed outside. The night was cold and clear, and no one else was around. We were certainly the only people in our suburb banging on pots and pans to start the new year.
Since then, I've celebrated New Year's Eve in many different ways and in many different settings. Before I was married, I worried with my girlfriends about who would ask me out, what I'd wear and where we'd be when the clock struck 12. Some memories are better than others!
Bill and I have now spent 26 New Year's Eves together. For the last 15, we've been surrounded by friends at Renaissance Weekend in Hilton Head, S.C.
Now, as the old year ends and the new one begins, we don't go outside and bang on pots and pans, but I still get the same feeling I had all those years ago, standing in front of my house with my brother and grandfather. And I even remember Billy-Be- Good and what he stands for as I make my New Year's resolutions.
I have friends who dread the endings and beginnings represented by the new year - who never want to go out on New Year's Eve. I've always seen change as energizing -- something to be embraced and relished. Something is ending, but a new time is being created, and I can be part of it.
That's why I've always loved New Year's Eve and wish my grandfather were still here so I could thank him for starting me off with a sense of anticipation and excitement about what was to come. Who knows"? Maybe this year, I'll go outside and bang on some pots and pans.
Happy New Year, everybody.