"Modern Thanksgivings different yet similar to the 'old days'" from the November 21, 1979 Door County Advocate
By Grace Samuelson
Modern Thanksgivings different yet similar to the 'old days'
By Grace Samuelson
November builds a memory bridge between the Thanksgivings of yesterday and today. What a difference in the way it used to be observed and the way it now is! Today, many families will eat out. Some will have meals sent in. Students will come home from college, bringing friends to enjoy the big day, and the weekend. There will be family get-togethers when the guests share the cost and the work of preparing a big meal. There are some who will be eating a lonely meal with memories for company. In some homes the vacant chair will take the joy from the gathering. Almost all the dinners will be scheduled around the football games on T.V. And, this year, when critical situations all over the world are worrisome, our American heritage should be more precious to us all.
Thanksgiving is the only, truly American holiday, with the exception of the Fourth of July. Tradition says that we celebrate with a feast, thanking God for the harvest, as the Puritans did the first thanksgiving in 1621. The oldest Thanksgiving proclamation in America was issued by Lt. Governor William Drummer of Massachusetts, in 1723. It set November 28th, a Thursday, as the date, and since this was before the Revolution, the bottom line read: "GOD SAVE THE KING."
After our first president, George Washington, left office, there were some presidents and governors who issued proclamations, and some who didn't. In 1864 Sarah Josepha Hale convinced Lincoln to sign, and he stipulated that, by presidential proclamation, the last Thursday in November ought to be Thanksgiving Day. In 1939 President Roosevelt moved Thanksgiving Day a week ahead, because he said that retailers complained that Thanksgiving came to close to Christmas. That didn't set well with many people, and it was moved back to the fourth Thursday in the month. A day of thanks for all our blessings.
Thanksgiving traditions vary in different sections of the country and from home to home. Families have their own traditions, if only that it has to be turkey. When I was young we sometimes had chicken, or goose; once, it was even venison. We girls always claimed we didn't like wild game, but one year Mama fooled us. We had two young men boarding with us while they went to high school: Milton Hickey and William Jess. On one particular night Mama told the boys that were having venison steak, but not to let on to us girls. When we sat down at the table we thought the steak smelled so good and tasted so good we were ready for seconds. We didn't notice the grins that passed between the two boys, but they kept passing the meat platter our way. And were we put out when we found how we'd been fooled! Here it was venison, not sirloin, as we thought. You can be sure we made it a point after that to find out, when there was venison in the house. They couldn't deceive us about the wild ducks Papa' shot, and the folks kept telling us we didn't know what we were missing. When we got too "picky" Papa would tell us: "Some day you may be glad to just have bread and butter." And he was right.
My childhood memories of Thanksgiving are always associated with school activities. We brought home booklets we'd made telling about the first Thanksgiving, the brave Pilgrims who invited the "noble Massasoit" and his friends to the harvest feast because he'd helped them in their need. And always, the cut out construction paper turkey which we could pin up on the wall in the dining room. For the program the day before Thanksgiving we learned Thanksgiving pieces: "Said old gentleman Gay, On Thanksgiving Day, If you want to be happy, give something away." And, "In sixteen hundred twenty, So all the histories say, The Mayflower came to anchor On the shores of Cape Cod Bay."
Sometimes we had refreshments: cutout sugar cookies or molasses cookies; turkeys or pumpkins with raisin eyes. We came home, hoping to help in the preparations for tomorrow, to bring the day closer.
Everything had to be made from scratch, so it took several days' preparation. Pumpkins peeled and cooked down to soft consistency. Squash, the big Hubbard kind, split open with a hatchet, seeded and baked until the meat could be scooped out, mashed with seasoning and butter and put into crockery bowls to be reheated Thursday. The pungent odor of savory, sage, and poultry seasoning ("Bell's, the label read) enticed us as Mama mixed it with the stale home-made bread she'd been hoarding in the brown paper bag in the cellarway. Onions and celery chopped fine with the two-blade chopping knife, in the big wooden chopping bowl. She didn't put the giblets in her dressing — Papa didn't like that — and anyway, Mama always ate the gizzard herself. The broth from cooking the giblets went in, however, with lots of melted dairy butter. No one had every told, us, in those days, that you shouldn't stuff the turkey 'til just before it went in the oven. Mama scrubbed the turkey and pulled pinfeathers for a long time after we had the supper dishes out of the way. Then she stuffed it, fastening the opening with store string threaded through a large darning needle. The big bird was carried out to the table on the back porch which served as our storm shed in winter. It was covered with a clean dish towel, and surely kept good and cool out there. Papa would get up at five next morning to light the fire in the range, and when it was going good the turkey went into the oven, in the big blue enamel roaster. It would come out all brown, crusty, and delicious, about one o'clock, just when we thought we couldn't possibly wait another minute. If it was roast chickens we were having, they didn't have to bake as long. Then Mama would bake her pumpkin and mincepies first. With turkey, there was no more oven space, and the pies were made the day before.
I think the first Thanksgiving dinner I ever had away from home was when I taught in Bethlehem and I can't remember if it was at the Women's College where I boarded, or if I was invited out. One year when I was at Carlsville, my good friend, Leila Loper, whom I'd met at Normal in Milwaukee, came up to have Thanksgiving with us. There was no Sunday train for her to get back home, and by calling around several places we finally found a ride for her back to Milwaukee. The first Thanksgiving after our little Keith was born, Aunt Bertha had invited all of us down to Jacksonport. But Grandma and Grandpa Samuelson felt we shouldn't take such a young child that far in a drafty car. It was a frigid Thanksgiving, in 1929. So, we had that Thanksgiving with them. The Depression had just set in at that time.
Depression Thanksgivings weren't deprived for us. We raised chickens and capons, and later on James raised turkeys, so we fared well. The year our Mary was born, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, at my Mother's, Verna fixed the goose we had for Thanksgiving dinner.
When we lived in Greendale, for several years we had dinner with Don Fellows, (Stanley's cousin) and Lenora, and Donny, in Milwaukee. Then, when we had the restaurant, our Thanksgivings were big days. I always thoroughly enjoyed serving them, even though it was lots of work. When our children still lived at home they helped arrange the huge horn of plenty we always had on the long table just outside the private dining room. We served by reservation only, and until 2:30. Then, the help went home for their family dinners and our family got together at four, hungry, happy and free.
I have a nice warm feeling as I travel my bridge of memories, and know that our grandchildren always remember those holidays with real pleasure. Lassie and Bob's wedding was on the day before Thanksgiving, so that year they were with us; they've been stationed so far away ever since that they couldn't get here. Now our family have families of their own, and their own gatherings. The years go by quickly. This year we'll be with relatives, and thankful to be.
We have a new great grandchild: Rebecca Susan, born Oct. 26 to Dan and Sheryl Barrette. A darling, we think.
'The T.V. and radio programs for Thanksgiving have been on for some time. The commercials are slanted to Christmas; in fact, Christmas decorations started going up in October. Even winter weather has pushed ahead. The hunters have gone off to shoot their deer; Christmas Club money has been paid out and folks are shopping for gifts. Grocery bills have gone up, but folks have to eat. We're told to save energy, to diet, to exercise, and to conserve. The stores are full of wonderful appliances which practically do everything for you. Take your choice: a microwave oven which prepares your food in no time. Or frozen food to bake with no effort on your part. Catering service which gives you a variety of choices, or reservations at your favorite restaurant. Or if that's what you want, togetherness with home-folks; an old fashioned meal or new tangled eating. The Macy parade to watch in the morning and the football game later. And the knowledge, that, for all its problems and disagreements, we still live in the best country on earth: America, the Beautiful.
So, when we attend church services and sing "We Gather Together" and "Bless This House," perhaps this child's prayer best expresses the way we all should feel:
O Lord, our thanks we give this Day
For family, home and friends.
And lift our thoughts in prayer to You
From whom all good descends.
Amen.
Courtesy of the Door County Library Newspaper Archive
Articles by Grace Samuelson