A Thanksgiving Story
I was twelve years old in 1960. That November began with a rush
of arctic wind. I wore a green knit hat pulled down over my ears as
I helped my dad shovel coal off the sidewalk into a wheelbarrow. Four
tons was enough to get us through until mid-winter or April . .
. depending on the weather.
We took turns pushing the heavy load to the coal chute where
we would lift the red handles high and watch the lumps crash downward
into
the bin. Sometimes the
coal would get stuck and we'd have to use a steel bar to break them loose.
Thanksgiving
was soon to be and many windows in Donora were decorated with cardboard
turkeys. One display had a huge bird in the foreground with cornstalks and pumpkin
in the distance. It was a sure reminder of Halloween that had passed the month
before.
The months of festivities. That's the way I viewed November and December.
A bustling of people could be seen milling over the sidewalks as smiling
faces and cheerful
hearts congregated despite the world. Too many of us didn't have a lot of money
and couldn't buy the glitter of store items. Our wealth was friendship.
***
Frank Robel was an average man as most would discern him.
He was almost six feet tall, brown hair, eyes to match and chewed tobacco.
You might see him
on Saturday night at the local bar throwing back a beer and a whiskey, you
might see him walking to church on Sunday morning as he did his best
to hide his hangover.
Frank was a regular guy.
Every time my older brother would visit Frank, I would
tag along with him. As the two of them sat and talked about fishing
or hunting I stayed quiet and drank
the soda from the fridge. I was allowed to have as many as I wanted. My favorite
was grape.
That day my brother carried a shoebox with him as we left
our house. I asked, "What's
in the box?"
He gazed at me without expression. "It's not for you." Say
no more. I understand! I kept my mouth shut as we continued up the hill.
There
was no snow but it was cold. I remember how my brother kept switching
hands to carry his secret, always putting the free one in his pocket. He
didn't ask
me to carry it and that was OK. We reached Frank's house only to learn that
he wasn't there. Brother of mine became angry at his misfortune. "We
might as well go back home," he said. "This note says he'll be
gone all day."
***
When John F. Kennedy won for Presidency
over Richard M. Nixon my aunt cried. Beside the Thanksgiving displays
were 'Democrat' signs
heralding the new
Roman Catholic President of the United States. Tears of joy and a new found hope
filled many homes in Donora that hour.
When Mr. Tomayko, director of insurance
for the United Steel Workers said that more cuts to unemployment
benefits would emerge before Christmas, no one cringed.
The town was full of expectancy as change brought unique leadership to light.
There
in it's midst stood Frank Robel. He wore a flannel shirt of orange and white
checks while he shouted his praise for the political win. As he reached
for his back pocket the half-pint fell and broke to spill whiskey on the concrete.
He cursed at the broken glass.
Frank had already taken a 40% cut in his checks
since his job terminated. He was glad that he had purchased the small
house when he did. Paid for in full,
at thirty-four years old, he had no debt. The best move he ever did was listening
to Ralph Voldar who explained finance to him.
"Hey, hey . . . J.F.K.", is what the crowd
chanted as they stood collectively at the corner of Thompson avenue.
Frank saw many familiar faces as he raised
his voice.
***
The Veteran's Day parade was a sight to see. Everyone
lined up at the curb to see the fire trucks and the police cruiser
wherein Chief John Pykosh rode and waved from the open window. Music
accompanied the VFW as they marched and people waved their miniature
flags.
That's when I first saw Ralph Voldar. He was a short
man with a bald head and he wore a dark green sweater vest over a long
sleeved shirt of blue. I tried
matching the shirt with the color of the sky; it didn't work, the November
sky was gray.
He stood back from the curb, against the brick wall of
a building. It appeared that his rotund body was holding the structure
in place and I fancied the thought
that there would be collapse if he moved away. It was a child's game.
As the
siren from the fire engine screamed, I walked away from the main
street to a side one. I saw two older boys talking to each other. Their
presence of
closeness captured my attention and the taller punched the other and knocked
him to the ground.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing," I said as the fighter turned and walked away.
"Are
you OK?"
"Get lost, kid."
I moved back to the crowd and
waved my flag.
***
Simon Morris lived two houses north of us. His yard could easily
be seen from ours.
It was he who gave us a chicken the day before
Thanksgiving; he said he raised them for such occasions. Coups were
built within his property
where he allowed
us to play 'catch 'n tag' and 'cowboys 'n Indians'.
Mr. Morris was a tall man
walking about his yard and tossing handful's of grain to his chicks.
A large brim straw hat was a regular part of his work attire.
He never used tobacco and I never heard him curse. At times when he did get angry
he would shake his head from side to side and mumble to himself.
It was because
of the good will of Simon Morris that Thanksgiving went so well that
year. There was sweet-potatoes, home made root-beer, cranberries. As
mom
added a sweet glaze over the baked bread I looked through the window to see Frank.
When
I opened the door their smiling faces greeted me as they chimed, "Happy
Thanksgiving". Frank opened a shopping bag he had carried in and shared
store-bought cookies, candies, a pumpkin pie and a gallon of wine. Ralph Voldar
opened the bottle with a twist, filled glasses for adults and the rest of the
day was full of song, laughter and friendship.
I gazed out the window and wondered
about the shoe box?
© 2006 by Xavier F. Aguilar
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