Guest Column

Spirit of past Thanksgivings lingers

By MARC J. YACHT
Published November 22, 2007

Our Telford, Pa., relatives, Jimmy and Emily, played host to Thanksgiving dinner in their lovely Bucks County home. The annual family gathering began early in the afternoon and brought the entire clan together. The women filled the kitchen, combining their efforts to feed those who had converged on the property for the holiday meal.

Typically, snow blanketed the property complete with ice-glazed barren trees and snow-covered tall pines. The children took command of the grounds partaking in snow ball fights, sledding and other winter activities. The adults sought refuge indoors.

While the women disappeared into the kitchen the men watched football or caught up on events of the past year. This yearly gathering was the only opportunity to spend time with the entire family. The cheerful conversation lead to much laughter and backslapping as each relative tried to out-do the other recounting events of the past year or revisiting old family tales.

When the dinner bell rang, the children were relegated to the den to sit around card tables on folding chairs. The adults filled the dining room and overflowed into the living salon. The compact house was not large, but homey. I remember a field-stone fireplace, black slate floors, oriental area rugs, and a wonderful picture window overlooking the lovely grounds.

Schnitzel, the dachshund, quietly meandered from guest to guest in search of treats.

Once everyone was in place for dinner, all eyes turned to me for my annual address. I stood and said what I have said each year since my second Thanksgiving gathering: "Every year we meet here for dinner and it's the same thing, turkey, turkey, turkey."

Laughter and applause followed my commentary and then the bowls filled with soup and salad quickly appeared. Corn bread and other breads were followed by the roasted turkeys, large hams, stuffing, sweet potatoes, large bowls filled with corn-on-a-cob, candied yams, cranberry sauce, asparagus, the fixings, and gravies.

Minted ice tea was typically the liquid refreshment but wine was served to the adults as well. Once diner started the only sounds heard were the movement of forks and knives and an occasional clatter of dishes as large plates of food were passed around. Dinner started at 4:30 p.m. and typically concluded about 7 p.m. after polishing off an array of desserts.

The women assisted in the clean-up while most of the men found some place to snooze. They might lie about on a comfy couch or large chairs or perhaps collapse on a bed filled with winter coats. Some tolerated the icy weather and relaxed on large porch chairs to smoke. By 8:30, families gathered children, expressed their appreciation to the hosts, and headed home -until next year.

So many are gone now. The hosts, Jimmy and Emily, died years ago. I still remember the tearful call they made when their beloved Schnitzel died at 17 years of age. There were divorces and other deaths, children grew up and moved away, and the annual banquet faded into history.

Somehow, the Florida winter season leaves one unfulfilled. Although, there are cold spells, I haven't seen snow-covered pines, iced-glazed barren trees, or packed snow on which to belly-flop. Yet, a Florida Thanksgiving kicks off the holiday season and lifts the spirits through the new year and still brings many families together that are scattered about the country.

In all fairness to Florida, I prefer seeing the snow and ice in a bucolic photograph rather than up front and personal. And one of our neighbors loads children into a horse drawn sled, adapted with wheels, and tours around our small community during Thanksgiving - a nice touch.

Now, our Thanksgiving dinner involves the children and rarely other relatives who are having their own festivities and live far away. The Mongolian feast has been replaced by more heart healthy alternatives. Although the roasted turkey appears on the table, the fixings and other foodstuffs are in lesser quantity and the dinner wraps up in less than one hour. I no longer stand and give my traditional speech.

I miss the annual Thanksgiving feast in Telford. Maybe ours is a lesser, healthier meal, and our property is smoker free with no risk of getting hit by a snowball; but I'd give a lot to see Jimmy and Emily again along with the array of crazy relatives, wild children and Schnitzel.

Marc J. Yacht of Hudson is retired director of the Pasco Health Department.

[Last modified November 21, 2007, 21:23:30]