Some years back I made a declaration that Thanksgiving should not be one day only but should be a season. It is too important a time to be fawned over for just a few hours and then stored away to come again in another year.
Of course, like most declarations that come from Page 4, it didn’t catch on. Evidence of this is all over. Instead of Thanksgiving highlights in the stores and other places we see the first signs of Christmas. In the efforts to make a few more bucks Thanksgiving has been given short shrift and been relegated to the lesser of American holidays. The big moneymaker is in the wings, just like the club fighter waiting for the bell.
People like me would have to say that this is a pity. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite. It, of course, may be said that I am a bit biased since I was born on Thanksgiving Day. Every so often my birthday falls on Thanksgiving giving me a dual celebration. When I was a youngster growing up in Texas, my family made quite a big deal about the day. Being rather young and naive I thought all the fuss and ado was because of me. Why else would we invite this vast assortment of cousins, aunts, uncles and other relatives?
During my teaching days I anticipated Thanksgiving almost as much as a child anticipates Christmas. For one thing we had four days off and on our return on Monday we had only three weeks before the big Christmas holidays. But probably more important, we had those days in which we prepared for Thanksgiving. We studied the reason for this particular day, we researched its origin and even played it out. We particularly enjoyed seeing the little kids, the Kindergartners, first- and second-graders, in construction paper hats and collars, and feathered headdresses act out the first Thanksgiving. Even the cafeteria got into the act. On the Wednesday before the holidays they would serve up a turkey dinner with some of the trimmings. It was pretty good, too.
What most of us are led to believe is that the first Thanksgiving was in 1620. The story goes that the Pilgrims, who had landed on Plymouth Rock and started that first settlement, had a pretty good crop and they thought that they should have a day of thanks. And as is done when one has a party they invited their neighbors, the Indians who lived nearby. Those Native Americans, showing they could be as gracious as their hosts, brought along various items to eat, probably a lot of fish, and maybe some corn dishes. They, of course, didn’t know it but they were inventing the pot luck. The literature does not tell us anything about roast turkey at this time. We would like to believe that some big bird graced the center of the dining table and since there is no one around to refute us we will assume this as fact.
Alas, Thanksgiving, after that first year, fell by the wayside. In fact the entire settlement movement almost fell by the wayside. The winters were harsh, the crops in many instances failed, and the Native Americans, friendly at first, became a bit belligerent. In short, there was little of which to be thankful.
Many years passed before someone thought that Thanksgiving should be given another try. It was during the Civil War and things were not going too well for President Lincoln. The war effort was lagging, his generals were not what they should be, and the country’s morale was low. But along came one Sarah Josepha Hale, a magazine editor and author of “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” Through a strong letter writing campaign she encouraged the president to set a day aside for Thanksgiving. Good idea, he probably said, and proclaimed the 4th Thursday in November as Thanksgiving Day, and we have observed it ever since.
I will have my Maryland son, David, and his family here for Thanksgiving. My daughter-in-law, Terri, always the thoughtful one, called me one day and asked, “Dad, what should I bring?” Without hesitation I told her, “Your apron.”
