THANKSGIVING MEANS MORE when you bring something to the table. Like in 1981 when I dropped turkeys with paratroopers into Egypt.
I've got pencil notes of those drops, made as part of Bright Star. A few years later, a Captain I didn't know crashed and burned in his C-141 near the same drop zone.
Thanksgivings come and go in Ireland where I live now and few people around my home really know the occasion. I never forget. We had some remnants of American Thanksgiving around the table today but the comparisons are so evident. The sweet potatoes are never the same as in the States, probably because I cannot duplicate my mother's sweet sauce. Irish mashed potatoes are better than anything I've had around a Thanksgiving dinner setting in America. Irish turkeys save themselves for Christmas when everybody else knows November is the best month to eat big birds. I had tasty beef ribs today and then made myself a turkey sandwich late in the day, just like many Thanksgivings ago. Next year, I'm taking the day off because Thanksgiving deserves more respect than just observing the memory.
