“And thank you for a house full of people I love. Amen.” – Terri Guillemets

I’ll never forget my first Thanksgiving away from home.

After only a few months of work, I was promoted to an assignment in the home office; told to report, bright and early, on the first Monday of November. The year was 1963, and my career was off to a good start.

I waved goodbye to my widowed mother from the open window of my fully packed car, backed out of the driveway, and drove the 400 miles east, from St. Louis to Cincinnati.

That first evening I moved into my furnished studio apartment on Hopple Street Viaduct. Monday evening, after work, I went looking for a companion – a new television for a 22-year-old, out on his own, would be good, I thought.

I didn’t know anyone, stayed in most nights (with my new TV), and used weekends to explore, living on Skyline Chili and Graeter’s Ice Cream (both Cincinnati staples).

The life of a single white male in this exciting new city was not working out as I planned. I was lonely and sad, but things would improve, I was sure. Perseverance is the most valuable of all human traits.

This ad appeared in the November 15, 1963 issue of “Life” magazine. You can tell the days of political correctness were still a long way off. Two weeks later, the November 29 issue would become a collector’s item.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, but this one would be different – I’d be alone. Friday was a work day and the long drive home (and back) was out of the question.

To preserve the trappings, I headed to Kroger. I bought two Banquet Frozen Turkey TV dinners (one would not be enough) along with vanilla ice cream to spoon on top of my Mrs. Smith’s frozen apple pie.

On November 19, my black and white showed pictures of President Kennedy pardoning the traditional turkey. While the turkey seemed happy, those images made me feel even worse. There wouldn’t be any big turkey on my table this year, nor the fixin’s, or any of my family gathered ‘round. Just a couple of aluminum trays.

The turkey’s pardon had come early this year because the President was going to Dallas. It was a city supporting a different brand of politics, but a community Kennedy believed he, and his charismatic wife, could use to start bringing the country together.

The dreadful news of November 22 reached me as I was having lunch. President Kennedy had been shot – dead.

Everything changed that Friday. When I was in the office, the assassination was the only conversation. At home, it was the only thing on TV.

The talk at work was unsettling – eye-opening really. The age of Camelot come was over, but others said, while it was sad and all, maybe it was, “Good riddance.”

Politics, like religion, is never the best topic, especially at work. So mostly, I just nodded and went along.

Watching Detroit play Green Bay would make me forget about the tragedy, I thought. Plus my meal would be good, or at least that was my plan. Being alone on a holiday is bad, add in a tragedy, and it’s even worse.

The football game ended in a tie and the frozen turkey was nothing like home. The ice cream was okay, but the apple pie – no way! Plus there wasn’t even any of my mother’s cranberry sauce, the one with orange peels she put through the grinder.

A career in the corporate world of the 60’s had been my choice. A choice that would bring more relocations, and more sacrifices, but a choice that brought lessons to last a lifetime – like not spending another Thanksgiving alone.

Maybe someone asked me to join them for dinner that day, I don’t remember. But if they did, I must have said, “No,” because, for me, as hard as it may be at times to extend an invitation, it’s even harder to accept.

It was a Thanksgiving I will never forget, not only for the sad news on my TV, but for the memory of separation and how I felt, eating a meal not blessed with the words, “…thank you for a house full of people I love. Amen.”

How do you think it would feel to be alone on a holiday? Have you experienced separation on special days or at other times? How did you feel? What did you do?

As always the conversation starts here.

“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran