Blame Thanksgiving on My Family - English and French

The Stuart Kings of England left an indelible negative impression on their country. Starting with King James I of Scotland, they sided with the Roman Catholics against the Protestants. Previously, James' cousin, Queen Elizabeth balanced both sides rather well, after spending her developing years trying to survive during various conflicts, largely religious, that could have ended her life.

The Stuarts were rather foolish, and that included Charles II who put my ancestor in prison for expecting his loan to be repaid. "Pay back loans? That is for commoners." The bankruptcy of the jailbird, a natural consequence of the king's displeasure, led some of them to sail for America, for a chance to start all over again. They learned early that it is easier to land in the outhouse than to keep title on the penthouse.

That part of the clan became prosperous land-owners in America, and my Uncle Spencer remained a farmer all his life. The Parker (English branch) reunions were full of farmers and ex-farmers, older women in plain cotton dresses, men with sunburnt faces - always joking. When I read a book of English history,  with a profile about the typical 17th century Englishman, I said to my wife, "That is where I got the joking, the gardening, everything."

The English side is a good example of the British crown driving people across the sea for freedom in America. With nothing to lose, many sought a new beginning where the stories were told of large families being all the more prosperous for having that many more workers for the field and kitchen. My Parker cousin told me how she calculated the cost of every meal for every hired hand during harvest.

My mother said she was confined to kitchen work for a large crew and had her fill of cooking, but she also did the work of men and terrified her students with her toughness and strength. "Glove? To play outfield? I don't need a glove." Woe to the teen who thought he could get away with sassing in class. That is why parents begged her to teach their wayward kids and saw how well they did. One classmate told me, "Your mother saved my life." Another one said, "My big regret is that I did not get your mother as a teacher in grade school. My mother tried to get that changed, but it did not happen."

On my father's side was the French Protestant exile from their homeland. That was far bloodier than anything caused by Bloody Mary in England.

The St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre of French Protestants led to many crossing the Atlantic. Later persecutions by the Roman Catholics led to more exiles and escapes. The Noel family settled into farming in the Midwest. One Noel family struggled so hard on free land in Ohio that they did not want to even visit their former home again. Their daughter insisted. That was a sad memory, not unlike the Little House on the Prairie, where the future author saw her family barely survive from year to year.

That family was Seventh Day Adventist until they started pig farming in Iowa, where they did well. That led them to become Evangelicals, even though they had two SDA bishops in the family. That might have made for a cold reunion long ago - raising pork and leaving Holy Mother Sect. What would your sainted Uncle Horace say?

French Protestant history in America is also fascinating. Some geograhical areas come alive when associated with that era. Rochelle and New Rochelle. Cajun history is interesting too, involving those horrible British, who demanded allegiance.

The quest for freedom based on natural rights - created by God, not man - is the story of our families. My wife's family came over from Germany after World War II. Many relatives settled in Ontario and were well known to Pastor Herman Otten's brother Walter (a pastor there for a time).

Other Ellenbergers settled in America because my father-in-law was the first to arrive. His papers had a special seal on them because he helped Patton's troops during the war. Five of the Ellenbergers served in  the US military, and every relative came over legally, becoming citizens who contributed by working hard for their adopted country.

Church members told my father-in-law, "Henry, you cannot send your two daughters to a private college. Send them to the school in town." He thought otherwise, and both daughters earned graduate degrees after graduating from Augustana College in Rock Island.

Thanksgiving Eve Grocery Shopping

Last year I worked at a Neighborhood Market, October-December. The staff warned me about Thanksgiving Eve - and it was hilarious.

My assumption is that people would want to buy the most important items days before the holiday, but I was wrong. Business was brisk before Thanksgiving, but nothing like Thanksgiving Eve. The big challenge was getting the backroom food out onto the shelves in the midst of crowds, especially those in the solid, packed baking aisle. Bumper to bumper traffic was normal most of the day.

The hiring assistant manager never shelved goods, but he joined the team on Thanksgiving Eve.

The baking aisle held the most delectable items, various forms of chocolate and nuts, in large ultra-fresh bags. But, getting them on the shelves was only part of the work. Everyone had a question, and many held recipes in their hands or mobile devices.

Nothing was worse than a man with a paper list, standing there in agony. One huge athlete told me he was getting a migraine trying to find items. I helped him with his pain.

The most amusing part of this was having a store jammed with people who failed to realize that Thanksgiving Eve shopping is fraught with shortages. Three-gallon containers of peanut oil for deep-frying turkey sold faster than bunnies at Easter, and we-were-out. I put together a package for one distraught freedom-fryer: three one-gallon jugs of peanut oil. "But that costs more than the three-gallon sale!" I hardened my heart against him, smiling.

We had a produce manager who was notoriously grumpy but hilarious in his caustic comments. Someone just had to ask me for Brussel Sprouts, and I had to go ask him. Customer service. So I asked, trying to hide my glee. He said with clenched jaws, spitting out each word. "No. We. Do. NOT!" I took the tragic news back to the shopper. Little Ichabod said, "Who expects Brussel Sprouts on Thanksgiving Eve?"

Nothing made me appreciate food items more than shelving them all day long. The coffee and creamer aisle smelled heavenly from the combination of the two, and that was enhanced by handling the bags of coffee and reaching into fresh boxes, getting hungrier by the minute. I do not use coffee creamer unless it is real whipped cream, but the formulations were made to entice, and those aromas were bewitching.

I tried new experiments and old favorites on food breaks. Vanilla Wavers were popular with everyone there, so I bought packages and left the rest of them to be shared. One said, "You bought these for me?" Yes. That was fun. I complained - "No one wanted to share my spicy hot roasted peanuts." A table-full groaned.

As one assistant manager confessed, "I take home food all the time after working in that aisle. I never bought food like this before working here." Being hungry and handling soup cases made me think about various combinations and flavors of soup. Likewise - beans. I wonder how those combinations tasted.

Customers would say things like, "Butter beans are the best, but make sure you get this kind." I was not asking for a suggestion, but that worked on me until I bought some to take home.

I also began to see how many healthy foods were also tempting. I bought dozens of canned mushrooms to add to eggs in the morning. I found that canned spinach was great for blood pressure and combined well with eggs. Shelving in the Asian and condiments meant I was exposed to every kind of flavoring and additive. They all looked good before the supper break.

I built a pantry in the Great Room, our name for the clean, unused garage. I built up our supplies with extra canned and paper goods. That came from the fact that I kept coming home - before working at Walmart - with a new case of paper towels. We had four large double packages at one point.

People like to complain about Walmart and wages. I joined after the universal starting wage was raised to $9 an hour and then $10. Wages for similar jobs went up all over the area.

More importantly, I saw people around me promoted in three months. Doc, the backroom guy who delivered a case of Baby Gerkin pickles onto the floor on his first day - was given full-time work and benefits in his first three days. In other words, mistakes are forgiven. The CEO ran his car into his boss's car the first day of his job, so there is a precedent.

Several others that I knew best were promoted in that time. One guy refused to help me clean up a mess. "I am not in maintenance anymore," he said as he smiled. That was neat. A very hard-working single mom got to move to customer service, and she was beaming. It meant so much less physical labor and a chance to work up the ladder.

I took an early retirement because teaching got busy again and the work made writing difficult to manage with the effect of relaxing, all-day work four days of the week. I am fortunate to enjoy the monthly Walmart meetings and know what the average worker feels like.

On New Year's Eve I insisted on a Southern tradition - Black-eyed Peas and greens. The first is for luck. The second is for money. If you are in the South for New Year's Eve, do not go looking for either item.

The first cold rain of autumn, which was yesterday, calls for chili. People poured in for chili, holding their little recipe slips.