Why do people eat turkey on Thanksgiving?
For heaven’s sake, people roast chicken, duck, goose, even pheasant all the time. What’s the big deal about us turkeys?
While keeping a wary eye out for stray pilgrims, I decided to take a stroll around town to see what it’s all about.
Cleverly disguised as an overstuffed (ahem) pigeon, I set out, hoping the getup would hold out.
First stop was Ulla Muller Elementary School, where folks were lined up even before the official 11 a.m. starting time.
Before the feast, though, volunteers from the Caribe Tradewinds Lodge 589 and Pearls of the V.I. 585 formed a circle with the Sparks volunteers and gave thanks for their blessings.
"We’ve been doing this for years," said Joe Cranston. "We served about 250 last year, but it looks bigger today, maybe 300."
While the Lodge volunteers served the feast, youngsters from Sparks school group help seat people and parked cars.
Meanwhile, with my disguise holding, I began my investigation. "Why does everybody eat turkey on Thanksgiving," I asked retired teacher Susan Spann.
"Isn’t that what the pilgrims ate?" she responded. (Oooh, don’t say that word, I wanted to caution.)
Turning to one of the adult servers, I posed the question: "I forget," he said. "I used to know."
On my way out, I asked one of the Sparks teenagers who smiled nicely and said, "I really don’ know."
Maybe it’s a geographical thing.
On to the Salvation Army, always the high point of the day, I’m told.
Music poured out from the small chapel where the church choir was in full voice, serenading a room spilling over with hungry people happily gobbling up their meals.
And there was George Goodwin stepping out from the tiny kitchen. He didn’t recognize me in my guise. It’s Goodwin’s 34th year at the carving station.
Taking time out from supervising a very busy serving line, Salvation Army Capt. Edwin Velez, who has been at the post for just over a year, praised the community for its generosity.
"Everybody has been so wonderful," he said. "I don’t want to forget anyone. Frenchman’s Reef cooked about 20 turkeys, Cost-You-Less, PriceSmart, Pueblo, Alpine Energy, and all these volunteers."
Velez gave a special thanks to Army stalwarts, board members Tom Bolt and Maria Ferreras. "They set the ball in motion; we’re so grateful to them," he added.
The volunteers, who come in all sizes, ages (and in one case, high office), ran an efficient assembly line, dishing out mounds of macaroni and cheese, potato stuffing, hams, rice and beans, salads and desserts.
The volunteer whose name tag read Gov. John deJongh Jr. appeared to be busiest of all as he hauled tray after tray out to the chapel-turned-dining room for the day.
He, also unaware of my disguise, said his family was off-island. "They are visiting Rene in college," he said, "but I decided I needed to be here."
The governor has been a fixture at the event for about six or so years, before taking office. "I love doing this," he said as he hurried off with his tray.
Stepping over all the chickens running in the street – now why is that? – I decided to try my luck with the Penn-Scipio annual feast at Emancipation Garden.
"Why does everyone eat turkey on Thanksgiving?" I asked once more.
"It tastes good," was one answer. Five-year-old Zayane Appleton, offered as good an answer as any, "It goes with pie."
Francine Penn-Scipio—along with friends, relatives and volunteers—has been serving up her traditional holiday fare since 1994, excepting a few years after Hurricane Marilyn.
Looking at the happy folks enjoying the bountiful feast, along with her longtime right hand, cousin Lola Roberts-Richards, Scipio said, "This always makes me feel good."
Volunteers from Addelita Cancryn Junior High School worked beside veteran volunteers, Girls on the Go, dishing out the hearty meal.
Finally, on my way home, I hit pay dirt!
"Why, does everyone eat turkey….," I began to ask a youngster, but before I could finish, his father, Robert McBride, was all too pleased to step in.
"In the 1600s the Plymouth colonists and Wampanoag and the Pequot Indians showed the colonists how to plant corn so they wouldn’t starve," McBride said, "and then they came back in the fall to share a feast with them, and they brought wild turkeys."
As his son and daughter looked on, McBride continued. "My great-great-great-grandmother was one of the original colonists. She came over on the Pinta," adding, "There were three boats, you know: the Pinta, the Santa Maria and the Nina."
Well, you just never know. Why didn’t those Indians bring a chicken, or a goose, or a nice, fat pig, or a ham sandwich?
And why don’t people know the reason they eat us all up, the fourth Thursday every November? Is it something in the water supply? I’m going to get someone to write to our senators.
Oh, anyway it looks like they’ve gotten rid of those pesky pilgrims.
Happy Thanksgiving to all, from one satisfied bird.
