Christmas isn’t a day off for everyone

Christmas Eve looks different depending on the job.

Maggie Hanbury of West Newton, owner of Raine Cleaning and Maintenance, will spend Christmas Eve helping others prepare their homes for holiday gatherings. Submitted

As residents in the Mon Valley rush through final errands and preparations, others are still on the clock, carrying forward on a holiday that doesn’t always feel like one.

These are half-crewed shifts and borrowed hours spent behind steering wheels, counters and doors that don’t belong to the people passing through them.

For Dalton Nuzzo of the Boston section of Elizabeth Township, Christmas Eve plays out behind the counter at RC Walters. New to the job, he’s already learned how quickly a relaxed shift can turn busy as customers scramble for last-minute fixes and forgotten items.

“Christmas Eve is usually your last opportunity to get something for your loved ones,” he said.

Nuzzo helps customers find what they need, cracks jokes, cuts keys and plans to dress up as an elf to keep things light. In between, he spends time with co-workers and the shop’s kitten, Rafiki.

For him, working Christmas Eve isn’t about missing out. It’s about helping someone solve a problem, whether that’s a broken RC car or a missing toilet flange.

“It’s another opportunity to help someone,” he said. “That’s why it matters.”

In Elizabeth Township, Shelby Hermann opens the doors at Alpha Fitness Club for a shortened Christmas Eve shift. From 8 a.m. to noon, the gym fills with familiar faces squeezing in workouts before family gatherings, out-of-town visitors buying day passes and class attendees showing up for holiday sessions.

“We stay busy the whole time,” Hermann said. “Helping people and chatting about their holiday plans is the fun part.” While some are surprised the gym is open at all, Hermann said closing completely would disappoint more people than many might expect.

Still, boundaries matter. As a small, family-owned business, Alpha Fitness shortens hours so staff and instructors can step away and enjoy the holiday, too.

Inside, the sounds of clanging weights mix with upbeat Christmas music. Hermann plans carefully so she can head straight from work to family celebrations, balancing business and holiday in the same few hours.

For others, Christmas Eve work happens out of sight.

In West Newton, Maggie Hanbury spends the day inside someone else’s home, not her own. Hanbury owns Raine Cleaning and Maintenance, a one-woman business she launched after more than seven years in professional cleaning. Her Christmas Eve begins around 8 a.m., moving from house to house as families prepare for gatherings she won’t attend.

“Christmas Eve feels like magic pushing through the chaos,” she said.

While families rush through wrapping and cooking, Hanbury focuses on details that often go unnoticed: bathrooms scrubbed, pine needles swept, pillows fluffed and blankets folded just right. Over the years, small gestures from clients — tips, cookies, handwritten notes — have reminded her that her work matters.

She finishes the day mopping or vacuuming her way out the door, knowing the home is ready and that she can head into her own holiday, even if a little later than most.

For James Anderson of California, Christmas Eve once meant arriving at Panera Bread hours before sunrise.

Anderson spent seven years working his way from delivery driver to assistant manager, and the holiday often felt like Black Friday compressed into half a day. He remembers cutting dozens of bagels and slicing loaves of bread before the morning rush, turning on Christmas music overhead when he was the only manager on duty, and bracing for the mental toll of another holiday spent away from family.

Skeleton crews and reduced stock only added to the pressure.

“Every time I smell a burnt bagel, I go right back to that place,” he said.

After years of working Christmas Eve and the day after, the holiday stopped feeling like a holiday at all — something he’s only recently begun to reclaim.

While some work quietly in the background, others are caring for those who need it most.

For Danielle Kevich of Charleroi, Christmas Eve at work has always been about care. A registered nurse at Fresenius Kidney Care for 19 years, Kevich has spent many holidays on rotating schedules, working shifts that begin before dawn and stretch into the afternoon.

At the clinic, patients are seen several times a week for hours at a time, becoming something closer to family than strangers. Christmas Eve means sharing plans, traditions and sometimes simply company.

One memory still stands out after so many holidays on the clock.

A longtime dialysis patient once arrived with a box for the staff filled with notes and pictures they had given him throughout the year. He had saved every one.

“He made such an impact on our lives,” Kevich said. “They still need the same care, regardless of the day. They don’t really want to be there on a holiday either, so why not be there with them and make the best of it, with Christmas music playing.”

As the hours slip by and anticipation builds, the work carries on.

For Capt. Matt Prentice of the Charleroi Fire Department, the holiday is never predictable. Always on call, he’s ready to return to the station if needed. Christmas Eve is also his birthday, a reminder that emergencies don’t pause for celebrations.

Some holidays bring multiple calls. Others are quiet. But the memory of a devastating house fire in Donora on Christmas Eve in 2023, which claimed two lives and displaced multiple families, remains close.

Prentice grew up in a firefighting family, where missed holidays and interrupted meals were part of the job. Now his son, Cole, visits the station during Christmas break whenever he can, eager to help.

At home, his wife, Megan, understands that the sound of the alarm can end a celebration in seconds. Plates cool and plans pause when duty calls.

“She gets it. My entire family knows not to make plans around me,” Prentice said. “She knows that when I’m called in, someone needs help. There’s no 10-1-1 to call. There’s no backup. It’s just us.”

For engineer/operator Kristopher Wergin, Christmas Eve is simply another shift. He isn’t attached to the holiday, but his family still looks forward to time together and understands what it means when he leaves mid-meal.

“They know what it means when I run down the stairs and out the door,” he said. “It’s what we have to do.”

Across the Valley, these shifts unfold quietly, often unnoticed by the people they serve.

Last-minute errands, polished homes and answered emergencies rely on people who remain on the clock.