In May of 1970, my dad (the tall guy), his Chevrolet colleagues, John Owens and Don Freeman, along with Richard Owens and me, presented Ted Williams, then Coach of the Washington Senators, with the Ted Williams Story film shown that April on channel 7, the local ABC affiliate and sponsored by Chevrolet. I’m not sure the actual film reel was in the canister. Richard and I each received a personalized TW-autographed baseball and picture taken in the team dugout. We watched that evening’s game from prime third baseline seats, only a dozen or so rows up. The scale of the stadium, crowd, and the goings on was mesmerizing. I remember seeing a wicked foul ball nail a lady chatting away just a few yards from us. Knocked her out mid-sentence, and they carried her out on a stretcher. I paid very close attention during each at bat from that point on.
My Thanksgiving’s Friday,
Cuz I’m still in the coop.
My buddy got it in the neck,
And now he’s in the soup.
Attribution to Betty Marvin
Thanksgiving 2017 has come and gone. No doubt, you’re braving local Black Friday retail merchant mosh pits, racing countless holiday screen-shoppers to grab Amazon Prime’s carefully timed, uncannily suggested, discounted cyber opportunities, setting up the Christmas tree, and spinning up your local FM easy listening station’s holiday music. All this excitement will leave you famished and you’ll stuff your lunchtime “sammiches” with L-Tryptophan-laced butterball leftovers. It is in the spirit of savory seasonal leftovers that I recycle an already several times told Thanksgiving re-tale.
A Thanksgiving Re-Tale
Thanksgiving 2009 has become the fixed north star on my timeline by which I recall, and in recalling, attempt to measure, weigh, and value God’s immeasurable, infinite and priceless faithfulness to me, and those human agencies through which He so abundantly has met so many of my otherwise unmeetable needs. At the top of my list of human agents is lovely, heroic Alice, my partner in life’s pilgrimmage. The host of names below hers is vast. As I remember you, and as you remember me, know that I love you all.
I also invite you to read an excellent Thanksgiving reflection written by my friend, Sam Frank Smith III.
Blackberries, or Bushes Afire?