The Hopper Clan Christmas

Wow, wonderful, fantastic, and great were words that described Saturday January 10, 2026. It was a big day in the life of the Hoppers. We had our family Christmas with fifty-seven members attending at the family farm at Sugar Ridge in Jemison, Alabama. It was the perfect morning for those of us that love it gray, overcast, cool, and rainy.

J M and Leecie Hopper would have been proud of all the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren having a prodigious day. The day started at eleven with a funeral of my niece’s grandfather. The rain was steady, and we all thought that the turnout might be small, but the dinner did not begin until two in the afternoon.

Returning from the funeral, a sizable crowd gathered at Sugar Ridge. Rain was drizzling heavily. My youngest brother fried fish in an iron pot, and my middle brother boiled gumbo in another iron pot beside him. There were uncles, nephews, and small children onlooking in anticipation of samples from the pots. The fish samples were delicious.

Inside all the women were steadily preparing the fixin’s to accompany the fish and gumbo. Fish and grits, turnip green soup, cornbread, and rice were hot from the stove. Nephews battered the fish and then battered oysters which my brother cooked. One sister-in-law brought home-made apple bread. My wife made an apple cake, Hors d’oeuvres, white chocolate covered Ritz crackers filled with peanut butter, a meat tray and stuff for sandwiches, and more.

When all was ready, I, being the patriarch of the Hopper Clan, offered up a Christmas prayer of thanksgiving. Just as in a story, the rain stopped, the sky lit up and dozens of children hit the yard finding mudholes, pools of water, and anything else they could explore. The hills and hollers were loud with the sound of laughter and screams as barefooted kids chased chickens, a dog, and a tomcat.

There were no electronics, just kids with imaginations and swinging in tree swings, rolling in the wet grass, and getting mud between their toes, up their backs, and on their faces. It was a special moment of noise that had long been absence. There were no arguments or upset folks, only smiles and laughter. Everyone agreed that God had given us a great family and glorious day to celebrate Christmas. The gift we shared and received was love.

Some of the family played a card game called swoop. Then they played “My Weird Family.” The family voted my sister the winner. One tradition we have when at Sugar Ridge is to take a picture of the family on the steps of our front porch. I worried that the weight might be an issue, but it held the family.

One by one family members began their journeys home to places from Birmingham and central Alabama to Gulf Shores and the Bay. Some of the family stayed for the baptism of one of the great grandnieces. We wanted to make sure her baptism waters were dirty. She did say that she did want to scare the preacher with some dye to color it. She has the spirit if a true Hopper. We concluded with Sunday Dinner at my sister’s home. She lives in the shadows of the giant peach tower on Interstate 65 in Clanton.

J M died in 1984 and Leecie died in 1987. Their desire was for us to love one another. We try to honor that desire. It was so much fun watching the kids making trails to the old home site where J M and Leccie raised us. I think that the good earth of Sugar Ridge felt revised. I know that the Hopper Clan did. Thank you, Lord, for a great day.

Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee. Exodus 20:12a