FIRST THANKSGIVING PARADE GIMBEL'S DEPARTMENT STORE PHILIDELPHIA 1921

The Craneberry

The Craneberry- so named by the Pilgrims because it's pink blossom reminded them of the heads of Cranes. The local Natives already had figured out they are good for you and made them a staple of their diet in Pemmican- a mash of dried berries, dried deer meat and melted animal fat. An early trail bar. The red juice was used to dye fibers to add some color to blankets and rugs. Who knows how the berry first came to grow on Cape Cod. Perhaps a bird dropped it and it took root in the sandy soil. Kettle ponds left from the passing of the last ice age filled with rotting vegetation and some became bogs. The berries liked bog land and sent out their woody tendrils. In the early 1800's a Captain Henry Hall of Dennis noticed the berries did better where the sand blew in over them and cultivation of the berry began. In 1820 he shipped 30 barrels of the red berries to New York City and they were a big hit.

CRANBERRY SALSA

2 cups whole cranberries 1 fresh jalapeno pepper seeded and minced
1/2 cup red pepper finely diced 1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
1/2 cup red onion, finely diced 1/4 cup fresh Italian flat leaf parsley, chopped
1/2 cup celery, finely diced 2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon sugar 1/8 teaspoon salt

Place cranberries in a food processor. Pulse a few times until chopped. Add everything else. Process until well mixed. Pour into serving bowl. Cover and chill over night. Serve with Thanksgiving dinner.
Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

A Thanksgiving memory

As Thanksgiving approaches my mind turns to a reflection of my youth in Plymouth Massachusetts. My family spent our summers in Manomet, south of Plymouth. We often drove into "town" which was Plymouth. In 1957 something special happened.

My Father had a few hobbies. Amateur photography was a big one for a while. In the summer Dad took hundreds of pictures...of seagulls. Oh he took pictures of other stuff too, but it was a joke in our household- how close could you sneak up on a seagull and take it's picture? We had hundreds of slides of seagulls from every angle. When he bought a zoom lens we thought he had reached the ultimate; the eye of the seagull.

But then something happened in 1957. The buzz began about a year beforehand. All year the excitement mounted. A Great Coming was in store. Right to our very own shores - The Mayflower 2. What a photo op.

Previous to this time, the whole Pilgrim thing in Plymouth was a somewhat naive venture. I remember the Statue of the handsome- and nearly naked -Massassoit perched atop the hill looking out over the harbor from whence would come his demise. I remember the granite Portico protecting Plymouth Rock. I didn't know at the time that that was the second portico and previous to that the rock had been dragged around town a few times. And I remember one House and one Fort and being enthralled by something called Thatch on the roof. This was back in the days when we believed all the pretty white history about the coming of the Pilgrims to the new land. But the coming of this Ship was going to usher in a new beginning of understanding.

For some reason, my Father was totally taken up by the excitement. The hundreds of pictures of seagulls gave way to hundreds of pictures of the Mayflower 2.

It was a glorious day when She sailed into Plymouth Harbor. It was like the Forth of July only more so. Every boat from row boats to yachts, from Boston to Ptown came fully decked out to escort Her into her new homeport. A parade of sail fit for the Queen. Horns and whistles blew. Fire works went off. Camera shutters fluttered faster than the speed of light.

One marked difference that came with the ship were the costumes. Here for the first time we saw how the Pilgrims really looked. They were, after all, Elizabethan English. I have no idea who dreamed up the rigs we were used to seeing. Those black sacks with big white square collars and hats. They didn't use buckles, that was the Puritans with whom they are still confused. Somber woolens true, but much more colorful. Here was mulberry, here was sage and navy blue. Here was a splash of Turkey Red! I was right there taking in all the pagentry and pomp-- but in my heart of hearts I was always on the other side- I was in the indian camp- even then. At eight years old I didn't understand why these people thought they could just come here and move in on the people who were already here without so much as a by your leave. I still don't. But it was a great day in American history--and I still have the slides to prove it!!!