How can you dispute that this is our Holiday… that Thanksgiving is America. One could also point to the 4th of July as being the American Holiday.
But here’s the difference. Thanksgiving is a celebration of family & 4th of July is a celebration of Community. But the key distinction is the food. Thanksgiving has to be the single best meal of the year. Christmas, Easter and Brunch on New Years have special qualities, too. But Christmas and Easter have religious underpinnings. And not every one thinks as highly of a New Year’s repast of Eggs Benedict and Champagne as I do.
Thanksgiving? At no other time of the year do virtually all of the citizens of our Country sit down to practically the same menu. And the same can not be said for the 4th. And besides, our celebration of the 4th can take place outside of our homes… fireworks at local parks, cookouts down by the shore… with our picnic tables adjacent to folks we don’t even know. The 4th is fun… it just doesn’t have the intimacy of the Thanksgiving table… even when the extended family joins in to increase our numbers… The extended family actually adds to the “closeness”.
As much as I adore the dinner… a side note: there was a Thanksgiving when the Ds joined the table… Mrs. D made stuffed, garlic enshrouded artichokes… the best I’ve ever had, pasta of some type and sausage & meatballs… and this was before the turkey etc., etc. But there is more than the dinner… and it is those memories that are fun to tap into.
As a Son… like many cities across the country, New Haven featured a football game that pitted a traditional rivalry on Thanksgiving. Thursday morning it was Wilbur Cross against Hill House High School. My Dad graduated from Hill House… something that I only had a vague awareness of. I don’t know what prompted him one Thanksgiving to take in some of the game. But he took me in tow. Just the two of us. Dad grew up in New Haven… knew folks. If he saw a familiar face, I can’t say. Maybe that was why we went… so he could connect to an old chum, or just be hear the pomp of the marching band. I can remember it being cold. I can remember thinking that I didn’t know any of the players’ names & didn’t feel committed to rooting one way or another… It wasn’t as if Paul was out there playing. To me, it was just a bunch of guys running around. But I was with my Dad.
As a Father… One Thanksgiving morning we got up to about 4 inches of snow. In all my life I can never remember having a snow on Thanksgiving. In fact, there have been probably less than 4 times that we had snow on ! You snow for Christmas, you it, you it… it’s on all the holiday cards, it’s part of the nostalgia. But Thanksgiving? Snow? Sure, it would be nice, just not what you would to see in Connecticut along the Sound. And here we are, on this particular Thursday, greeted with a few inches of the fluffy stuff. We would be heading over to the Cadans for Thanksgiving dinner later in the day… but that would leave us the morning to do as we fancied. I took Zack, Shaina & Suzy over to Wolfpit School and put their steep hill to good use. We stayed long enough to get in a few good sledding runs, get red cheeks and runny noses. I’ve taken the kids for sledding on other times… when the snow was better and more fun. Great times, sure… but not the as on Thanksgiving!
As a Friend… One Thanksgiving we joined forces with our friends the Rowes. Craig suggested it to me. We would send Ellen & Denise and our four “little ones” into the City for the Macy’s Parade… Zack and Scott would hang-out… and we would be responsible for the kitchen prep. Two turkeys to make… one in the oven, one on the grill… and all the sides. Craig took on the task of organization… I was assigned specific duties, the most important of which was the making of our Martinis. It was a pleasant afternoon with the weather nice enough for us to enjoy our conversation outside wedged in between the prep. The Martinis couldn’t have been better. Craig and I have had many talks over the years… but there was something special about the pace of our afternoon without the buzz of the kids and our wives to deflect from the tone and tenor of our thoughts. Nor did we feel the pang of guilt. Denise and Ellen had the day off from KP… the kids were being treated to a special day in the City… the older boys happy to have their siblings elsewhere.
As a Stranger… The Thanksgiving in 1971 found me in the Mess of Echo Company, 9th Battalion, 2nd Regiment in Ft. Jackson, South Carolina. The Army is very proud that they provide a place to sleep and “three squares” a day to all soldiers. I believe prison makes the same claim. And on Thanksgiving there probably wasn’t much that separated the menu at Echo Company from Folsom Prison. I do remember the day, however. I do remember that the Drill Sergeants treated us with a higher degree of humanity. Well… I guess even they needed a day off from playing the part of a . Sort of like a Sunday. For me, it was an extra “Sunday” in a week. And for that, I was thankful.
Thanksgiving. Did I mention the food? Did I mention how great it is to sit down with family? I am taking nothing away from that. Still, I think it’s about the small stories contributing to the large story. The large story can blur; but it is the small story that cuts a fine edge into memory.