By Don Radebaugh — As far as favorite holidays go, it’s hard to out-run Christmas; but Thanksgiving gives ole Saint Nick a run for the money every time. No commercial pressure to buy presents for people who don’t need anything. Just the amazing warmth of family and friends and the most delicious homemade meal on earth.
For a history geek like me, it also doesn’t hurt that my favorite President, that would be Abraham Lincoln if you hadn’t noticed, officially made Thanksgiving a national holiday when on Oct. 3, 1863 the 16th President issued a Proclamation: “I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.”
From the moment Lincoln wrote those words, Americans have been celebrating Thanksgiving as a national holiday ever since, and with it for most, a couple of days off from work. Yes, you can thank Lincoln on this Thanksgiving day for all that and more. There’s also that saving the Union thing.
At any rate, it’s always been my opinion that people really are a little kinder, gentler during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. Beyond January 1, all bets are off of course; but until then, the warmth around us is magical. Unfortunately, holidays can also be difficult times for many…maybe you’ve recently lost a loved one, or possibly your special someone is serving in the military in some faraway foreign land. Or, maybe you’re just depressed, ever more amplified by the holidays. I’m fairly sure we’ve all experienced the “blues” on some level over the holidays; but for me, a rather embarrassing Thanksgiving holiday memory comes to mind.
It was Thanksgiving three years ago. Both my kids were away as were my other family members who live in other places. I found myself alone on Thanksgiving morning, yet I was bound and determined to not let the spirit escape me. It was more than that…I was dang hungry…yearning for turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, dressing, salt and everything else that comes with it. Somehow, someway, I was going to get my turkey dinner. I could probably have pulled a Cramer (Seinfeld) and just crashed a friend’s house, but even I’m not that brash or brave. That only happens in the sitcoms. Long story shorter…I decided I was going to go to Cracker Barrel. I know…pretty lame but I had to have my turkey dinner. Surely you understand.
Plus I thought I could get right in…go in under the radar…stuff myself beyond recognition and weasel out before anyone noticed. I mean, it takes guts to go to Cracker Barrel alone on Thanksgiving. And, it was on the other side of town and the likelihood of anyone recognizing me was small enough that I was willing to take the risk…such a brave lad on this Thanksgiving day. But when I found myself searching for a parking spot, I began to get nervous. People don’t go to Cracker Barrel on Thanksgiving…I should be the only loser here, right? Wrong. Place was packed…I could hardly squeeze into the lobby…and you know how big those Cracker Barrel lobbies are.
Nonetheless, I managed to wiggle my way forward and put my hat in the ring for “Don, party of one.” I really didn’t think much of it until the names started coming big and bold across the extra loud speakers: “Smith, party of seven…McCall, party of four.” And they just kept coming. Why did they have to be so loud? Then I started to get nervous. They wouldn’t do that, would they? I knew I’d hear my name, but they’re not going to tag it with “party of one?” Surely they’d have more compassion than that? I thought about leaving for fear that this could actually happen. Maybe I should have thought this through a little more. While I contemplated my next move…there it came, reverberating from the heavens above. It almost seemed like they turned the speakers up just for the occasion. “Don, party of one.” I was so embarrassed. People started looking around to see who this person was. By then I had made my way back close to the front door…I could have easily wiggled out and pretended the whole thing never happened. Then, they did it again. “Don, party of one.” The place began to sense it was me; or at least it seemed like all the eyes turned toward me. I could feel my forehead beading up with sweat. At that precise moment, I chose to face my fear and began maneuvering my way toward the host. No maneuvering necessary. The place parted like the Red Sea for Moses. There was no turning back now. I could sense the sorrow in their eyes for this loser, all alone on Thanksgiving. I kept my head down and dared to look at no one. I got to the host…she looked right at me and repeated, “Don, party of one?” No lady…there’s 44 more of my very best loser friends on the way. Geez, did you have to repeat it? To add salt to the bleeding wound, they sat me at a four-top. Could this get any worse? After all this, much of this irresistible appetite I had was all but gone. It was the final kick in the shins. I never got to truly enjoy that Thanksgiving dinner I had so fervently yearned for.
One thing’s for sure…as God as my witness, I’ll never let this happen again. I have vowed ever since to get way out in front of Thanksgiving, which is why I’m asking, begging now. Who wants me at their table for Thanksgiving and what time do you want me over? After the Macy’s Day Parade, we’re going to watch the Lions, right? Happy Thanksgiving all, and thanks for the day off Mr. Lincoln…
@DonRadebaugh and/or like my History Mystery Man fan page on Facebook.
I don’t get why there’s a stigma against people who don’t necessarily celebrate Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day. For several years my family would have Thanksgiving on Saturday after, since my sister-in-law had to work Thanksgiving Day. She had to pick between working Thanksgiving Day or Christmas Day, and when you have kids, that’s not a hard choice to make (I would rather work Thanksgiving if I had to take that option). So for a few years on Thanksgiving Day I used to head out with my camera and do a little photography. The railroads don’t do much on Thanksgiving though it’s not a complete shutdown, but I would plot out a map of cabooses on display in all the little towns around here. One year I went out to Owensboro / Henderson,KY and back. The following day I went down to Central City and Greenville. The second year I did it, I went down to Tennessee, north/east of Nashville. I ran into Darrell and Sandy Basham who were out on the road that day in Horse Cave,KY. I think they were on their way home too. Third year I went out into western Tennessee and western Kentucky, and made one short trip into eastern Kentucky the year after before realizing that being out in the hills and “hollers” in eastern Kentucky when there may not be many gas stations open that day might not be the best idea. Still, most of these trips, I’d stop somewhere to eat, didn’t get too much notice about it being Thanksgiving. I will say that I’ve been out on normal road trips on my own and have stopped at places where the waitress/server kinda gives me a disappointed “oh” when I tell her it’s just me. Sometimes I think about it when I’m out and just drive home to eat instead of stopping somewhere. If I’d known you were out and about on one of those days, I probably could’ve made the trip up to Ohio!