Bell ringer’s feeling Christmas spirit
The more he read the angrier he became, but instead of just turning the page Paul Murphy reached for his phone and called Salvation Army headquarters. He wanted to enlist. Major retail outlets — South Shore Plaza, Copley Plaza, Shoppers World — had evicted the Sallies from their premises, claiming their incessant ringing of bells was an annoyance to their Christmas customers.
Scrooge couldn’t have incurred more wrath than those misguided merchants did, which is why they quickly rescinded their ban.
That was 25 years ago.
“I offered to give them my time,” Murphy said, “but they’ve given me so much more. I’m in my 80s now and because of them I feel the Christmas spirit more than I ever have in my life.”
They assigned him to Downtown Crossing, then Faneuil Hall, before finally moving him to the busy Stop & Shop in Weymouth where he long ago became a Christmas fixture. Garbed in a
Lampson & Davis top hat that’s 100 years old, the bearded Murphy looks like he just stepped out of a Charles Dickens novel.
He was a Roxbury kid when the Sallies first caught his attention.
“They’d show up outside Drury’s Drug Store at the corner of Dudley and Warren, playing their carols. I remember thinking they made it feel like Christmas.”
Later, as a soldier, he’d enjoy their hospitality in USO clubs, but it was in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina that he fully saw them in action.
As a nationally prominent authority on animal welfare, Murphy had been sent to New Orleans to oversee rescue operations.
“We were eating trail mix and granola bars until the Salvation Army showed up with its vans, giving us the first hot meals we’d had in two weeks.”
Those are the stories he hears at the kettle.
“They’re fading away now but World War II guys can’t wait to tell me what the Sallies meant to them and I just love hearing it.”
Then he laughed. “They always tell me the Red Cross made them pay for their doughnuts.”
As much as he’s touched by tales from the Greatest Generation, he’s equally moved by youngsters who approach him with dollars clutched in their hands.
“I see the parents looking on as their kids say ‘Thanks!’ while putting their money in the kettle. What a lesson they’re being taught.”
Today the hat and topcoat have been stored. Murphy’s hitch is over until next year.
“But the work of the Salvation Army goes on,” he’s quick to note. “It doesn’t end when the bells are put away. So I tell people at the kettle, ‘Please, keep sending those checks to the Salvation Army at 25 Shawmut Road in Canton (02021).’
“I promise you it’ll make you feel like Christmas all year long.”
Murphy was a Roxbury kid when the Sallies first caught his attention. ‘I remember thinking they made it feel like Christmas.’