DISPATCHES FROM HOME – We Always Drove East. Happy Thanksgiving! November 25 2021

When I was a child in the late 50s and early 60s, Thanksgiving was always a family affair. Mom, Dad, and I usually celebrated it alone, just the three of us enjoying a simple, pleasant time together. Mom cooked a traditional meal for lunch, I helped wash the dishes, and then we were off on our very own tradition–the Thanksgiving drive.

For as long as I can remember, Dad always drove east on Thanksgiving and west on Christmas. He was a Nash Rambler man in those days, and we put many a mile on that old car. The drive was not planned. There was no set destination, no set time for our return. There were times when we were gone only an hour or so. Other times we didn’t get home until after dark. But we always drove east.

Dad enjoyed driving on roads that were less traveled. He collected old road maps, following them all over Jackson County, sometimes crossing into Alabama. In the days before interstates, there were just miles and miles of gently curving roads, drenched in the resinous smell of pine trees, standing like towering sentinels holding up the sky. The old roads were sometimes covered by the gnarled branches of ancient live oaks, their leafy tracery creating dancing pools of light on the blacktop.

As we journeyed through the countryside, the occasional farmhouse would beckon. Its peeling paint and welcoming porch swing, along with a yard filled with yapping dogs and laughing children, brought a smile to Mom and Dad’s faces. I, of course, longed to jump out the window and join the dogs and children in their merriment.

Dad, being the history lover that he was (and from whom I inherited my love of history), regaled us with stories of the county’s booming timber and sawmill industry in its early days. My first introduction to Ingalls was Dad’s humorous tales of the shipyard’s female welders during World War II. Dad’s stories of the Round Island lighthouse kept me glued to the car window, expecting pirates and the like to attack our Nash Ramble at the next red light.

Our Thanksgiving journey east usually ended with Mom and Dad talking about “grown-up” stuff while I drifted off to sleep in the back seat wrapped up in an old baby-doll quilt (which I still have) and dreaming of pirates and ships and days gone by. It’s been years since I last took a drive east. With Mom and Dad both in Heaven, it just wouldn’t be the same. But this year, I think I might. Perhaps a slow drive on some long-forgotten back road would help me forget, for the moment, the heartbreak that surrounds us this Thanksgiving Day.

Heartbreak? The heartbreak of seeing my dear country besieged by racist organizations like the Ku Klux Klan and Black Lives Matter, which are hellbent on gnawing away at the very fabric of our nation. The 1619 Project and Critical Race theory rip us apart even further. Wokeism’s madness has led to the destruction of monuments and statues all over the country. The heartbreak is never-ending, it seems.

Riots in the streets, insanely evil people who kill indiscriminately, a looming financial crash brought on by a government too stupid to see its own failures, the assault on religion, especially Christianity, and the cavernous pit of incivility and declining morals into which we have fallen are but the tip of the iceberg. But despite these looming troubles, I am thankful. Thankful that I live in America. Thankful for my parents and what they instilled in me. Thankful for dear friends. Thankful for my health. And thankful for my church.

Today, when I bow my head in thanks at the Thanksgiving meal, I shall remember those long-ago family drives east. In these upsetting times, the warmth of those memories will calm my heart, as does Jesus’ promise that one day He will split the eastern sky asunder, returning in all His glory to call His children Home. Then, for all eternity, I will ride the back roads of Heaven with Mom and Dad once again.

Here’s wishing my Facebook family and friends a Happy Thanksgiving filled with love, joy, and precious memories. With kindest remembrances and best wishes for your future health and happiness, Andy.