Dear Elders, What did your family do for Thanksgiving when you were growing up? Did you have any family traditions?
– Tom Turkey
Roioli Schweiker
Dear Tom,
Since none of our relatives lived east of the Mississippi, we did not have big family parties. Often we would have another small family who did not have relatives nearby for dinner. The menu was turkey, of course, gravy, dressing and mashed
potatoes and cranberry sauce. Before the days of freezers and refrigerated trucks, the choice of other vegetables was limited. Some, like cabbage or squash, kept well. The best canned vegetables were corn, string beans
and tomatoes.
There was pie, of course, for dessert, though Daddy’s favorite was [canned] pineapple.
Bill Twibill
Dear Fowl Lover,
As a child, my mother had a parrot named Brutus. The only problem was that Brutus cussed something awful. Mom was having all the in-laws over for Thanksgiving dinner one year, so she needed to train Brutus quickly not to swear. A few days before they all arrived, Brutus started cussing terribly, so Mom put him in the freezer for a few minutes to literally cool off. Then she opened the door and took Brutus out along with the frozen turkey. “Have you learned your lesson about cussing?” Mom asked. Brutus the parrot took one look at the dead turkey and said, “I sure have, but I have one question. What the heck did the turkey do?”
Casper Kranenburg
Dear TT,
When I grew up, in Holland, we celebrated the birthday of St. Nicolaas on Dec. 5. As the story goes, St. Nicolaas lived in Spain and arrived by boat on his birthday in all major towns in Holland, which, of course, was magical by itself. He would climb on a white horse and slowly parade through the town, assisted by three or four helpers of Moorish background who walked behind him. They are called Zwarte Piet (Black Peter) and dressed in colorful outfits. But now comes the tradition: If you had been a bad boy any time that year, Black Peter would grab you and put you in his burlap bag, which he carried over his shoulders. Off you go to Spain to repent and only to be returned to your parents next December! No wonder we all tried to behave for 364 days a year.
Jan Stickler
Dear Thomas,
We had a tradition that not only was a family tradition, but a neighborhood tradition. It was called BEGGING. Between the hours of 9 a.m. and noon, all the children dressed up as beggars or hobos. We would put on old soiled clothing, blacken our hands and faces with coal, and descend upon the neighborhood. Knocking on doors, we would ask “Anything for Thanksgiving?” and we would receive fruit, candy, nuts, whatever the homeowner had on hand for the holiday. At noon, everyone returned to their own home to wash away the grime, savor the morning’s bounty and dress for Thanksgiving dinner. I have asked many people about this custom and have received many quizzical looks in return. Either this custom only existed in a small section in the borough of Queens in New York City or I lived in a really really poor neighborhood.
