Part two of a series
She was home alone that night when she heard some footsteps in the house. Her husband was away on a call as a veterinarian. No one in Spring Grove locked their doors back in the 1970s. Soon, 15 to 18 “creatures” entered the kitchen and formed a circle around her – surely alarming. No one said anything until finally, one approached and whispered that she was supposed to guess who they were. She would have recognized all of them except they all wore disguises – weird clothing selections with faces covered in some manner.
Karen Gray was thus introduced to the Norwegian Christmas tradition of julebukking (YOU-luh-booking), also known as “Christmas fooling.” The word julebukk translates as Christmas goat. If possible, someone carrying a wooden goat head, usually fashioned out of wood, on a stick was part of the tradition.
Her introduction was somewhat unusual in that the visitors came in silence. Quite often, the julebukkers made as much noise as possible as they approached a residence. But once inside, silence was the norm with no one wanting their voice to disclose their identity. The homeowners tried their best to induce the visitors to speak.
As soon as a visitor’s identity was guessed correctly, the mask was taken off. Traditional julebukking visits came at night between Christmas and New Year’s, when there was a good chance that left over holiday cookies or treats would be available for visitors, even those uninvited. After julebukkers engaged in holiday conversation and enjoyed refreshments (quite often including alcohol), they invited their victim to grab a costume and join them on their next visits.
Karen did not recall what crazy clothing she donned that night, but she did join the group and set out for their next stop. She said the challenge was coming up with some facial covering. But one could always put a paper bag over their head with holes cut out to see through.
Karen and Jim Gray became ardent julebukkers. Karen especially enjoyed organizing an outing when she could watch as the group increased in number as the evening progressed. It became a family affair. But to further hide their identity and not to appear as a two-child family, one Gray child would stand with another couple before identities were revealed.
Many children were introduced to julebukking when their parents or grandparents were visited. Jim Wilhelmson was a six-or-seven-year-old bystander when julebukkers came calling at the family farm between Spring Grove and Riceford. He was scared at first but his parents knew what was happening. After marrying and living in Spring Grove, Jim and wife Lois were julebukked in the mid-1960s. It was her first julebukking guessing game. He said it took quite a while to identify a couple of men disguised as ladies.
It was about 10 p.m. when Lois and Jim joined the traveling troop that night, and it was past midnight when they returned home. It was their first but not their last night of Christmas fooling.
It was not always easy to quickly come up with a costume, Jim explained. But there were those that had a disguise stored away in case the opportunity arose. Halloween masks might be saved for just such an occasion.
Glenn and Sally Kinneberg were a young couple in Wilmington Township and thought it was a housewarming visit when they were first visited by julebukkers in the mid-1950s. He said he had heard about julebukking but had not previously experienced it. Later, the Kinnebergs were members of a card-playing group in Spring Grove, which added julebukking to their holiday schedule.
The holiday tradition came across the Atlantic Ocean with Norwegian immigrants in the last half of the 1800s. In the United States, julebukking was mostly limited to close-knit Norwegian heritage communities. Julebukkers did not want to visit someone who would not understand or appreciate the honor. Jim and Karen Gray were not Norwegians, but they embraced the Norwegian culture in Spring Grove and were therefore worthy of experiencing the tradition.
The costumed visits were generally well-received, but there were exceptions. Many julebukkers crossed dressed with men disguised as women and vice versa. Glenn Kinneberg recalled one night when a male resident came out and punched one julebukker in the gut. Disguised as a man, the person punched was actually a pregnant woman. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries.
Geneva Tweeten said her mother related stories about julebukking in the 1920s and 1930s. Geneva and husband Morris continued the tradition in the 1950s and 1960s. Morris, with a wife and daughters at home, had plenty of female attire available and was known for his highly authentic disguise as a woman. Most people knew about the custom, but there were those that did not and reacted negatively. One elderly man told them to get out or he would get his gun. Another man sent his dog after them. Geneva said one man in their party, in retreat, tried to jump over a bush. “That didn’t turn out so well.”
Morris and Geneva were usually accompanied by their children on julebukking adventures. Daughters Taresa and Marsha remember one longer trip to Harmony in the 1950s to julebukk some good friends, who were unfamiliar with julebukking. A good time was enjoyed by all. The festivities concluded with the adults conversing downstairs while the children went upstairs to play hide-and-seek. Another year, an evening ended with the adults playing cards while the children slept.
While in high school in the early 1980s, Taresa and some classmates decided to julebukk several of their teachers. Most of the faculty were not from Spring Grove families and therefore not familiar with julebukking. For the most part, the evening went well, but one teacher was alarmed by masked intruders and threatened to call the cops if they did not depart quickly.
Julebukking later in life, Taresa recalled being told by one woman that they “were too old to be out begging.” The situation improved when the woman’s husband explained what was actually happening.
To be continued …
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