By Mike Donohue

Moapa Valley Progress

Thanksgiving: A God-given Holiday

Thanksgiving is the most wonderful holiday of the year. I like to say it’s sensually delicious.

As enjoyable as summer and sunshine are, by Thanksgiving the wearisome desert heat of Southern Nevada has finally gone and the cooler weather is toe-curlingly delightful.

I love the taste of Thanksgiving no matter how it’s served. Like many, I’m partial to turkey, stuffing, gravy and mashed potatoes, etc., but anything that honors the day is okay by me. In my mind the special day makes the food special. And despite my curmudgeoness nature, when I hear someone say they’re thankful on Thanksgiving, I actually believe them.

The smells of Thanksgiving are breathtaking. Every year the bouquet that fills the house from early morning till the last pie is cooling on the rack mingles with outside aromas from autumn days slightly tinted with a hint of burning leaves and all the poignant, positive memories of Thanksgivings past come flooding back. Not all have been fuzzy, warm and huggable, but the pleasurable ones far outnumber the bad.

Finally, of course, there’s family. Whether it’s the reality of getting together with loved ones this year, or the memories of those reunions in years past, more than anything else, Thanksgivings are about family, and not just to me.

I had the wonderful privilege of talking about Thanksgiving with some fantastic ladies at the Senior Citizen Center’s bazaar last Saturday. Every time I said Thanksgiving every beautiful woman I talked to without hesitation replied, “Family.” It was almost a given.

Lois Dusky, 83, remembers Thanksgiving as lots and lots of family and others gathering to share a wonderful meal and each other.

Carol Schreiner, 81, recalled driving from all over Wyoming to the grandparents every Thanksgiving. “Getting away from home was always a big deal and it made Thanksgiving very special.”

Ann Snow, 75, from Logan, Utah, who has lived in Moapa Valley for years, recalled more recent fond memories of being able to eat Thanksgiving outdoors in Overton because of the mild weather. (Lucky us, Ann, Logan got almost a foot of snow last weekend.)

Seventy-eight-year-old Norma Urban said that to her, the holiday always meant family and a good time. “I lived in Ohio and we always butchered pigs for Thanksgiving. Our big meal of the day was pork and chickens.”

Verna Hatch, 77, said to her, Thanksgiving meant family and lots of food. “My mother raised chickens and every Thanksgiving she’d butcher three and we’d have chickens, potatoes and gravy and salted beans. They were wonderful.”

There were others, but the replies were pretty similar.

Then 80-year-old Betty Trombley told me a wonderful story about one Thanksgiving in Vermont when she was a girl during the Great Depression.

“My mother and dad were both out of work and we didn’t have turkey,” she said. “We didn’t have meat of any kind for Thanksgiving and we really didn’t expect to get any.”

With prospects looking pretty bleak, Betty and her siblings went outside to play in the snow. Low and behold, the first thing they saw was a big red chicken sitting on the back fence.

“Well, the first thing we did was run and tell dad,” Betty said. “Believe it or not, he came out and shooed that chicken away. ‘He’s not our bird,’ dad told us. And then he went back inside.”

Naturally, the kids were crestfallen. In no time, however, that foolish bird returned. “Dad said finding the chicken’s owner was the right thing to do, so, with all us kids tagging behind, he went door to door in our neighborhood looking for the owner.”

Betty said everyone on the block, “and it was a big block, too,” said the chicken wasn’t theirs. Finally the troop got to the last house in the neighborhood and everyone was holding their breath. It had a chicken coop.

“Dad knocked and asked about the chicken,” Betty said. “Well, the woman who came to the door said, ‘No, that’s not my chicken. I only raise white ones.’ And we were thrilled.”

Needless to say, Betty and her family had a tasty holiday and she still has delicious memories.

She insists Thanksgiving was God given that year.

I have to agree, Betty, but then I think all Thanksgivings are God given, it’s my favorite holiday.