Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, mostly because of the awesome amount of delectable food. I love turkey and cornbread/sage stuffing with jellied cranberry sauce more than anything, The pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies are dream food.
In bygone years, the families of both of my parents were large. My dad had five sisters and one brother. My mother had five sisters and one brother. So there were lots of in-laws and none of them were local raised. Most were men who had moved from other states, such as West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Alabama, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Tennessee to seek their fortunes in the great oil booms in the area of our Texas town.
I was born on a Thanksgiving afternoon. A big snowstorm had fallen suddenly, the natural gas line had a massive leak, so we had no heat, and the doctor could not drive the five miles from town to my grandparents' house. Grandma Houston had to handle my delivery into a freezing cold world.
Thanksgiving was celebrated with all my aunts, uncles, and cousins assembling at my grandma's house, because it was largest. There was the usual drunk uncle, bossy aunt, rich uncle, and timid easily offended aunt who cried at any criticism. Then, there was Aunt Bill. She was the mean aunt, and nearly every T-day she brought a new husband. They all either ran away or died suspiciously.
Sometimes, my great-uncle Captain Houston and his two sons joined us. Uncle Cap had won 64 Paul Whiteman awards for his fiddling prowess. His sons played guitar, banjo, violin, accordion, drum, and bass viol. Great-aunt Helen, who was of Black Dutch heritage, played the piano. They were a square-dance band, with Uncle Cap doing the calls. They were actually superb musicians and entertainers.
Thanksgiving dinner was served on a huge round oak table with several leaf extensions. My grandpa usually said the blessing, and then we ate and ate grandma's delicious hot rolls and various dishes.
The young ones were usually served at a separate smaller table in the kitchen, except me, who grandma insisted sit by her.
Everything was usually peaceful, unless one of the uncles partook too much of his Jack Daniel's whiskey. Aunt Bill kept everyone under control, most of the time.
After the passing of my grandparents, most of the family members celebrated separate Thanksgivings, as my family has done. We are now the grandparents hosting the holiday, which is how it works, I guess.
I wish one and all a blessed Thanksgiving.
-- Louis Houston is a resident of Siloam Springs. His book "The Grape-Toned Studebaker" is available locally and from Amazon.com. Send any questions or comments to [email protected] or call 524-6926. The opinions expressed are those of the author.
Community on 11/23/2016