As I looked through the hundreds of blogs, short stories, articles or just plain musings I've written over the years, the topic of Thanksgiving wins hands down and takes the lead for "most items written about one subject". Either it's a time of year when I have less to do and more free time on my hands or it's more of an emotional period and I find that writing allows me to express and share those feelings.
I also find that the stories act somewhat like a key to helping me remember where I was living or what I was dong that particular year. Although some of the stories become a little more embellished each time I share them, the events as I recall them pretty much took place... well, sorta. One of my favorites allowed me to remember a time when doing things like riding a bus downtown with my friends when we were barely 10 years old, in order to bring home a live turkey.
Another one that brings back a fun time was when the entire "Williams" family, my in-laws, and I all went camping on Thanksgiving and we cooked our turkey and sides on a bed of coals from the campfire.
The first Thanksgiving I spent away from my immediate family was my freshman year at the University of Oklahoma in 1966. Because of the expense of flying and the distance of 1,000 miles from Dayton, Ohio and it was too far to drive in such a short time, I ended up spending the holiday with my college roommate and his family. The companionship was great. The food was great, but just not being home, brought a little sadness.
One year later, I found myself again at OU during Thanksgiving with no plans to get back to Dayton for the holiday. I didn't have a car my sophomore year, I think it had something to day with really bad grades, so I decided to catch a ride to Nashville with a friend and then maybe hitchhike on to Dayton and perhaps talking Mom and Dad into taking my car back. I remember somehow getting to Vanderbilt University and going to the local chapter of my college fraternity and then somehow ending up in Dayton, I think by flying stand-by. Who knows. I guess it's just another one of those chapters in my life that seemed normal at the time. I did get to take my car back to college though.
Three years later I found myself once again separated from my family while I enjoyed my Thanksgiving meal alone at Basic Training for the U.S. Air Force. The companionship existed of 45 of us in our flight that we spent 24 hours a day looking at each other, the food was standard mess hall chow and the sadness, well, there was that also.
From Ohio to Oklahoma to Virginia and back to Oklahoma to New Mexico and finally to Texas every stop, every location, every address has a memory.
For the first 18 years I can remember Mom cooking the turkey down in the basement. Now, and yes, it makes me smile to even tell this anecdote, all those years Mom would cook the turkey in a little second oven, that Dad had connected in the basement. I guess they had bought a new oven at one point and they just decided to keep the old one. The kitchen was so small it was almost like a blast furnace in there by the time all of the burners and oven were fired up. Poor Mom would traipse up and down those stairs 20 or 30 times on Thanksgiving morning checking on the turkey.
In those early years it seems like right after a full belly of turkey and right before any drowsiness set in, we would gather in the neighborhood for some touch football unless of course an early season snowfall would cover the ground.
As the years went by, our own traditions would begin to evolve but of course the mainstay of the tradition was certainly the turkey but football was always included.
There was the infamous Dallas Cowboy football game of 1993 when a player named Leon Lett had a goal line fumble that cost the Cowboys the game. Leon would go on to say it was the worst day of his life. We hosted Thanksgiving at our house that day and had family come from 20 miles away braving the ice and snow to be together.
There were a couple of times that Pattye and I spent Thanksgiving working at the Dallas Cowboy stadium in one of the food vending booths. She sang with a world famous group of ladies, The Rich-Tones, and each year we would raise money as a non-profit manning the booth during the annual Cowboys Thanksgiving Day game. Later we would join the rest of her group of volunteers for turkey at one of their homes.
We have eaten at 5 star restaurants on Thanksgiving. We have had everything catered by the local grocery. We have traveled to our kids homes and they have traveled to ours. Each year has been different in its own way. Some years have been more quiet than others and sometimes the day seemed like non-stop kids running through the house.
It's a special time and I hold all of the memories close to my heart.
I hope all of you enjoy the day as well.
Gosh, I'm getting hungry already.
Another one that brings back a fun time was when the entire "Williams" family, my in-laws, and I all went camping on Thanksgiving and we cooked our turkey and sides on a bed of coals from the campfire.
The first Thanksgiving I spent away from my immediate family was my freshman year at the University of Oklahoma in 1966. Because of the expense of flying and the distance of 1,000 miles from Dayton, Ohio and it was too far to drive in such a short time, I ended up spending the holiday with my college roommate and his family. The companionship was great. The food was great, but just not being home, brought a little sadness.
One year later, I found myself again at OU during Thanksgiving with no plans to get back to Dayton for the holiday. I didn't have a car my sophomore year, I think it had something to day with really bad grades, so I decided to catch a ride to Nashville with a friend and then maybe hitchhike on to Dayton and perhaps talking Mom and Dad into taking my car back. I remember somehow getting to Vanderbilt University and going to the local chapter of my college fraternity and then somehow ending up in Dayton, I think by flying stand-by. Who knows. I guess it's just another one of those chapters in my life that seemed normal at the time. I did get to take my car back to college though.
Three years later I found myself once again separated from my family while I enjoyed my Thanksgiving meal alone at Basic Training for the U.S. Air Force. The companionship existed of 45 of us in our flight that we spent 24 hours a day looking at each other, the food was standard mess hall chow and the sadness, well, there was that also.
From Ohio to Oklahoma to Virginia and back to Oklahoma to New Mexico and finally to Texas every stop, every location, every address has a memory.
For the first 18 years I can remember Mom cooking the turkey down in the basement. Now, and yes, it makes me smile to even tell this anecdote, all those years Mom would cook the turkey in a little second oven, that Dad had connected in the basement. I guess they had bought a new oven at one point and they just decided to keep the old one. The kitchen was so small it was almost like a blast furnace in there by the time all of the burners and oven were fired up. Poor Mom would traipse up and down those stairs 20 or 30 times on Thanksgiving morning checking on the turkey.
In those early years it seems like right after a full belly of turkey and right before any drowsiness set in, we would gather in the neighborhood for some touch football unless of course an early season snowfall would cover the ground.
As the years went by, our own traditions would begin to evolve but of course the mainstay of the tradition was certainly the turkey but football was always included.
There were a couple of times that Pattye and I spent Thanksgiving working at the Dallas Cowboy stadium in one of the food vending booths. She sang with a world famous group of ladies, The Rich-Tones, and each year we would raise money as a non-profit manning the booth during the annual Cowboys Thanksgiving Day game. Later we would join the rest of her group of volunteers for turkey at one of their homes.
We have eaten at 5 star restaurants on Thanksgiving. We have had everything catered by the local grocery. We have traveled to our kids homes and they have traveled to ours. Each year has been different in its own way. Some years have been more quiet than others and sometimes the day seemed like non-stop kids running through the house.
It's a special time and I hold all of the memories close to my heart.
I hope all of you enjoy the day as well.
Gosh, I'm getting hungry already.
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