Ramblings on a Daniels Family Thanksgiving

Anyone who has known me for any period of time knows that the Thanksgiving-Christmas-New Years holiday run has never been a favorite of mine.For me,the causes of those feelings stem from various issues that I won't get into now. I can't say all those feelings are erased,but I am noticing within myself a slight change which I believe comes from now having grandchildren.

For most children in America,the holiday period is an extremely magical time and I was no exception.

...and it would begin on Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving in the Daniels household would begin early in the morning,but never quite as early as my mom said it had to be on that day. Mom always said we had to be on the road early,but while we generally were on the road before noon,it never turned out to be the 8 or 9 am departure time my Mom would talk about.
The time it took for us to get ready for the road gave us Daniels brothers enough time to tune into the big High School football game in Hartford between Weaver and Hartford Public. On the radio or TV,we'd know who won the game,but  for us Hartford kids,it was important to know not only who won the game,but which school won the inevitable fight after the game.We'd find out the result of the fight after we returned from our trip.
Thanksgiving in the Daniels household meant sometime in the morning,the three Daniels boys,Mom,our grandmother and sometimes my grandfather piling into the Daniels family vehicle for a 5 hour drive from Hartford to Darby Pennsylvania,a town just outside of Philadelphia..
Seating arrangements in the car depended upon whether my grandfather was there or not and which Daniels brother needed to be separated.
For us Daniels boys,the trip to Darby was in a sense a trial run before the summer trip to Washington DC. After all,we would stop in Darby for the night on our way to Washington,and just like on our Washington trip,there would be the request to stop at the Howard Johnson's just off seemingly every highway stop.(the answer was usually no)There was also the unmistakable aroma of oil refineries driving on the New Jersey Turnpike.

Darby Pennsylvania was the home of my grandmother's sister. To us she was Aunt Nell. We called her husband Uncle Garvin. He like my grandfather was a World War 1 vet,and when they got together they'd swap various war stories,and sometimes perform the drills they did back then. If my grandfather didn't meet us in Connecticut,he'd meet up with us in Darby.It was certainly a shorter trip coming from Washington.

We'd also be greeted by our cousins from Philadelphia,as well as our cousins from New York.I especially looked forward to that because it meant I got to hang out with my favorite cousin Allen.
Long before the advent of the internet,my cousin Allen and I would maintain a letter writing correspondence,mainly centered around our favorite team- New York Mets.Thanksgiving would give us a chance to discuss the Mets season in detail along with speculating possible trades and ponder the age old question as to whether the next season would be THE season for the Mets.

Though Aunt Nell's modest house would be filled with anywhere from 15-25 relatives,she would insist on preparing the entire meal alone.Anyone was welcomed to converse with her in the kitchen,but assisting her in any way was a no-no.She knew how she was going to do things and when she was going to do things. She kept that practice until she was felled by a stroke in her late 80's. After that she merely stood in the kitchen barking out orders as to how she wanted things done.

We usually arrived in Darby too late to catch the televised Macy's and Gimbel's parades,but that usually meant that we would arrive just in time for the Thanksgiving NFL games.

There would be two tables set up at Aunt Nell's house-there was the "Adult" table and the "Children's" table. Reaching adult age was not the prerequisite of being admitted onto the adult table.Deaths and/or marriage with children might eventually land one from the children to the adult table.. Another Aunt Nell rule came into play as the offspring go older: No girlfriends or boyfriends allowed.That rule created a few sparks.

The TV would be turned off for the Thanksgiving prayer but given the abundance of Giants,Eagles,Cowboys,and Washington fans in the family,if any of those teams were playing,the prayer would be much shorter!
There would be a Southern tint to Thanksgiving at Aunt Nell's.In addition to the traditonal turkey,one could count on collard greens and candied sweet potatoes as part of the Thanksgiving feast.

I always looked forward to Aunt Nell's homemade blueberry pie with blueberries from New Jersey after dinner.

After dinner and after football,the living and dining rooms would be transformed into a  blanket and pillow filled master cousins bedroom. Luckily the rules about being quiet once the lights were turned off were never applied here.

The trip back home the next day would be delayed as my Mom,Allen's mom,and various cousins shopping expedition to Philadelphia would have to take place first. If my grandfather had to return to Washington,the shopping expedition gave my grandmother more time to spend with him.

The most memorable ride home came one year where fog started to roll in somewhere in Pennsylvania and got progressively worse going through New Jersey and New York.
My Mom,because of an incident where I put our car into a snowbank on my first attempt at driving,never became a passenger with me,even after I obtained my license. By the time we reached Westchester County in New York,Mom had enough..She turned the car keys over to me,and I got us safely back to Hartford..
It's all about the memories created..

Annie Louise Moore Jones-thumbnail sketches

Annie Louise Moore Jones was my Grandmother. She was born and raised in Greenville South Carolina. She met my Grandfather while attending Allen University in South Carolina. They married shortly after his return from World War 1.

After they married,they moved from South Carolina to Washington D.C.where my Grandfather first worked for the Census Bureau and later ran a successful real estate business. After several miscarriages,they gave birth to Helen Louise Jones-my mother.

A doctor's experiment which was often done to black patients left her crippled. This absolutely devastated my Grandfather,but my Grandmother seemed to have a way of taking it in stride. I remember her telling him on more than one occasion "You better be thankful I'm crippled,I'd have you running all over town!" Supposedly she loved to dance while my Grandfather was content to hang out with his pals swapping stories.

When my parents divorced when I was 5,my Grandmother came from Washington to Hartford to assist my mom raising the three Daniels Brothers. This meant her time with her husband was limited to his Connecticut visits,and we'd spend our entire summers in Washington so that they could be together. My Grandmother's efforts in the household enabled my Mom to pursue her Masters Degree in Education which led to her fulfilling her life long dream of becoming an Educator.

Being crippled merely slowed her down.It did not stop her. She did most of the cooking in our household. The things I learned about cooking came from her as I would follow her around the kitchen.

Being crippled did not stop her from being the prime disciplinarian in our household either. There were times when us Daniels boys thought we were being slick by running away from her when she was angry at us. We also thought a flight of stairs would discourage her from pursuing us. She would patiently wait for us. We all loved sitting on her lap and sooner or later we'd forget about what we had done and would find our way to her lap. She'd play along and be nice to us..for a minute before she grab us with the tightest grip imaginable. She didn't forget.
One was also better off if one took the punishment early as opposed to forcing her to climb up our stairs and in doing so,trapping us in our room. We'd then get whupped for the original crime in addition to running away from her.

She was well suited for handling the Daniels Brothers.Supposedly she was a "tomboy" growing up,known for playing baseball and smoking a corn cob pipe with the guys. There was very little that we could sneak by her.

She was an avid baseball fan. She would tell me stories about seeing Negro League games and would tell anyone interested that Josh Gibson was the greatest player of all time. She knew rosters stats and strategies better than any other adult I knew and older baseball fans both in Connecticut and in D.C.would love to stop by and talk baseball with her.

When I reached high school age,my grandmother announced to us that it was time for us to be on our own and that she was returning to Washington full time. I believe she knew her time on this earth was limited and she wished to spend the last of her days with her husband.

Shortly after returning,she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Just before returning to the hospital and falling into a coma,she called my mom and my brothers into her bedroom.There she gave each of us profound instructions and advice. I'd be a little better off today if I had heeded some of the advice she gave me.

At the end,she told us something we thought was a case of delirium setting in. She kept saying "I'll be taking Sandy with me"

I didn't know what it meant then,but I understood later when,almost exactly to the year after she passed,my Grandfather passed away too.