Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was one of those holidays that the Sampsons always celebrated, along with Christmas, Easter, and Independence day or the Fourth of July  (“Forchuly,” in a heavy Finnish accent.) To be accurate, I should add that we were Easter Rabbit and Santa Claus Christians. Easter meant jelly beans, chocolate eggs and hidden eggs, with coins taped to them for the ones at Uncle John’s house; and Christmas meant a present at Uncle John’s on Christmas Eve, and more gifts at home on Christmas  Day.  George Washington’s birthday,Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day and Labor Day were largely just days out of school, but for those of us in Florence, OR, Labor Day also meant the salmon barbecue, with corn on the cob, at the Rod and Gun Club. In Vake’s and Milly’s house, we also did birthdays, Mother’s Day,  Father’s Day, and Halloween; and we took note of Ground Hog’s day; the first day of March (if it comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb), May Day, and Flag Day.

            Thanksgiving meant a family gathering and a big feast. Take, for example, the typical feast that Gene and Kathleen hosted when I was about 10 years old (which would make it 1957).  Their house was on the “Skyline,” a hill between Coos Bay and North Bend. It was great for kids to visit, because it had a long, rectangular floor plan:  as you walked in on the short side of the rectangle, on the right, you saw the dining room and the living room. Beyond that lay a door opening onto a long hallway that ran parallel to the dining/living area, and gave access to bedrooms and bathrooms. If you turned sharp left from the entry, you turned into the kitchen, and to access to that same long hall. It was great for kids because you could run in great circles, through the dining and living room, turn sharp left, charge down the hall back to the kitchen.  Of course, at age 10, I couldn’t run and scream in the house; but I could chase after Mark (age 3) and Tina (age 2) who could.

            That year David (who was 17)  brought a  girlfriend who was dressed in the high style of that year:  a sack dress, and high-heeled shoes with pointy toes. His father thought about David, then sent her away to private school.

            The dinner included turkey, of course; dressing (no thank you, I am ten years old and I do not like dressing); mashed potatoes and a choice of gravy, without giblets or with (without please; I hated giblets and still do); bread and butter; cranberry jelly except for the year all cranberries were pulled off the market;  green beans (Edna Sharp’s, she was the mother-in-law to Uncle John, were served Oregon pioneer style with bacon and vinegar) (this was out of fresh veggie season, and before freezers and frozen food were ubiquitous; this meant canned beans that were green-grayish in color);  and jello salad, lime-flavored with coleslaw in it , or green olives (no thanks, I don’t like coleslaw or green olives; remember that I am 10 years old, and red jello with banana slices is for dessert, not salad); and candied yams (I like the candy part). Dessert would have been pie:  Milly’s venison mincemeat pie was popular (no thanks, I didn’t like the rum or brandy flavor, or though I sure do now!), and of course, pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.

            Afterward was the big treat:  At the end of the long hall, at the end of the living room where it turned hard left  into the hallway that passed bedroom and returned to the  kitchen, was an armoire with a big bottom drawer where David, Arnold, and Sam stored their magazines.  When they were younger, that meant comic books. Milly hated comic books. Who knows why? Maybe she thought (like certain governmental officials did) that they would corrupt the morals of youth. But every visit, Aunt Kathleen let Sandy and me take as many comic books as we could carry. I loved the simple, sweet ones: Little Lulu (who became a shill for Kleenex), Little Lotta ( a fat girl with a passion for fairness), Caspar the Friendly Ghost, Donald Duck, Uncle Scrooge . Uncle Scrooge was a duck, like his nephew Donald, but who was rich, and who sat in a treasure room on top of a pile of coins and faceted gems. He lusted after a true Scottish scone. I was so surprised when I discovered that a scone was nothing more than a dry baking soda biscuit.

            Sandy had a propensity to choose comics with bug-eyed monsters, and that made Vake laugh.

            When we got the comic books home, the rule was that we had to keep them picked up, or else they went into the fireplace.  When he was old enough to like comic books, Mark took his out of the house into his “forts” to protect them, but of course, they did not survive the weather.

            Eventually, David, Arnold and Sam gave up comics. That was a disappointment. But by then, I had discovered “Mad,” and that actually made Milly laugh.