Thanksgiving, also known as “Turkey Day,” in 1954, was one I shall never forget. I remember Mom telling me that around midnight, Grandmother would be up making the stuffing, then seasoning the turkey before she stuffed it, then she’d get Grandpa to help put it in the oven at a low heat. The turkey would roast slowly, and by the time we arrived at their house for the family Thanksgiving get-together, their house would already be filled with the wonderful aroma of that stuffed bird.
Aunt Betty and Uncle Clarence, Aunt Dot and Uncle Albert, and Aunt Hazel, Uncle Dave and their daughter Annie who was a couple of years older than me, all drove from their homes to be with us for Thanksgiving at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s. My aunties all pitched in and helped with setting the dining room table, making sure the napkins, knives, forks, and spoons were laid in their proper places, along with the water glasses. Some would wash fruit, peel potatoes, carrots, and turnips, or whatever Grandmother asked them to do to prepare for the feast. My uncles, and Dad, and Grandpa headed tor the living room, where they chatted about things that were going on in their lives. I really don’t know what they talked about, as Cousin Annie and I were sent out to Grandma’s backyard to play, so we wouldn’t be in the way. We didn’t complain, partly because playing outside helped pass the time more quickly. If we stayed in the house, we’d have to sit quietly, smelling the turkey, our mouths watering as we waited to eat.
Grandmother had a beautiful flower garden out back and a large rock garden. Annie and I played on the grass between these gardens. Grandmother had a box with toys, tea sets, etc., so Annie and I set the little table that Grandpa had made us with the tea sets, pulled up the matching chairs, and began our tea party. It wasn’t long before I spotted movement at the other end of the rock garden. I mentioned it to Annie, and we both looked in that direction. “Oh,” I said, “baby kittens.” But Annie didn’t think they were kittens, she thought they were baby skunks. “And why is that? “ I asked. Annie pointed to one that had crawled out onto the grass, and said, “ Cause it has a stripe down its back. We gotta get them outta here.” So, we picked up some small rocks from Grandma’s rock garden, throwing them toward the skunks just to scare them away. Sadly, one rock hit one little skunk, who fell over onto the grass, while the others scurried away. I imagine they were hoping to find their mother. Annie ran over to the maple tree, found a small branch on the lawn and proceeded to lift little skunk to take him behind the flower garden, perhaps thinking we could bury him there. But just as she managed to get the branch under him, little skunk raised his tail and sprayed, right up her arm. An overwhelming stench filled the air. It landed not only on her arm but also on her dress. The foul odour was so powerful Annie got sick, right there on Grandma’s lawn. I ran to the backdoor, calling for Grandma, who heard the panic in my voice and came as quickly as she could. She didn’t have to ask what was wrong, for as soon as she opened the back door, she could smell the skunk spray.
In a matter of minutes, everyone in the house could smell skunk too, as Grandma and Aunt Hazel took Annie upstairs. I explained what had happened as everyone seemed very interested in why Annie smelled skunky. I really don’t know everything that happened up there, but Aunt Hazel made trips down and back up with cans of tomato juice in her hands. Sometime later when they all came back downstairs, we could still smell skunk. Not as strong as it was when Annie was taken upstairs, but she still stunk pretty bad.
Next came the food, and my aunts and Mom helped carry out platters and bowls filled with the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, vegetables, the cranberry sauce, rolls, pumpkin bread, and Grandma filled the glasses with water. Then, we all sat down, breathing deep of the amazing smell of the turkey, trying to ignore the skunk smell and eagerly preparing for the Thanksgiving feast. Grandpa said grace to express our thanks for the food we were about to partake of and asked God to bless it and us as well, especially dear little Annie. We were taught at an early age that on Thanksgiving we also, in our prayer of Thanksgiving, to not just think about the feast we were about to eat, but all the blessings that had been bestowed upon us on all the days of our lives. After that, the adults began passing the platters and bowls and loading up the plates.
I’m grateful for so much in my 75 years of life and for family Thanksgiving memories, especially this one, as well as other holiday traditions and celebrations we’ve enjoyed through the years. I should add that after three weeks, thankfully, after much scrubbing with harsh soap, the skunk smell finally left Cousin Annie.
I’m sure many of you have your own family stories about Thanksgiving, and I hope all of you will recall some of those in the coming days. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. God Bless!
