It is that time of year when a lot of us celebrate the holiday season
known as Christmas with a nativity scene in Basin Park. Predictably, anti-religious groups protest, claiming we're promoting religion. We could set aside space for groups to celebrate traditional events, holidays that happen
around the same time…like the Jewish Hanukkah. We could do that, but these
zealots don’t want compromise…they want no evidence of Christmas anywhere. They
even object to Holiday Lights and money being spent for any decoration, even decidedly unreligious Christmas trees.
Eureka Springs survives on tourism. Christmas decorations and events
translate into out-of-town visitors and retail sales, so we ignore these
haters, as we do anyone who tries to tell us what to think, but understand our display is unique. It means a lot more to us
than the celebration of a birth. It is the commemoration of an event dear to
all our hearts; an event that is part of our history, a tale repeated endlessly, making
us laugh and remember. We're celebrating “The Night Virginia Stole The Baby
Jesus.”
Before you hear the story, you have to know that Virginia Voiers is a
very gracious and elegant lady, proper in all ways, and highly regarded by the
community. Just about every committee in town seeks her gentle presence, and
she's served on a lot of them, always arriving dressed to perfection. We are in awe of Virginia.
For many years, during the Christmas Season, it was the custom of a
local sorority to create a nativity display in the band shell at Basin Park, in
the center of town. It was also the custom of the juvenile element in town to
steal the Baby Jesus and have it turn up somewhere else. One night, some thirty
years ago, as her husband, Bill, remembers, Virginia, her grown daughter, and
her son were having dinner downtown, during the holidays. They passed the
display while walking home, and Virginia’s daughter noticed the baby was still
in the manger.
Her daughter said, “C’mon, Mom, let’s steal the baby.” Well,
Virginia enjoys a good joke, so she did.
Unfortunately, the local carriage driver, passing by, witnessed the deed and called the police,
who came and arrested Virginia, and took her to the station where the local
sorority head, apparently not amused,
preferred charges.
What? Virginia? The
town was agog. Sides were chosen. Tempers flared. For weeks, it was the main
subject over evening libations at The High Hat Lounge.
Stan Adams, the local Methodist minister, stayed by her side the whole
time in court as she was convicted of thievery, malicious mischief, and damage
to private property. The sorority (which, you understand, must remain nameless)
claimed the baby was damaged. Virginia was given probation and told to
apologize. She wrote a check. Didn’t
apologize. Not our Virginia!
But that isn’t the end of the story! About a year later, as Bill
tells it, Judge McBeth remembered the missing apology and cited her for
contempt of court. Police came to the door, took our Virginia away in
handcuffs. If there had been cell
phones, it would have gone viral, and she spent about half a day in jail, the
Methodist minister by her side, until her lawyer came.
So, if, some Christmas, you are visiting and, hanging out by the
nativity in Basin Park, and you hear someone say, “You remember the time Virginia
stole the Baby Jesus?” you will now become one of us, because you know the story. Remember to smile.
