My Thanksgiving - 2007

by Don Wheeler

When I was a kid growing up in Evanston, Illinois, Thanksgiving was all about tradition and rituals.

The feast and celebration was always at my grandparents’ (my mother’s parents) apartment about a mile from home. One of the great extravagances was the gorgeous shrimp cocktail which started the meal. My Grandmother would see the same butcher each year to order it well in advance. This shrimp would also represent the only legitimate seafood I would have most years.

Our celebration was always joined by two childless couples who were great friends of my grandparents – the Norways and the Rillings.

I remember the Norways had this gorgeous, white 1965 Ford Thunderbird with an interior which looked like an airplane cockpit. It was a pretty darn near new car in my memory. Harold Norway let me sit in the driver’s seat and play with the tilt, telescoping swing away steering wheel. Man that was cool!

George Rilling was a salesman for the Yellow Pages and liked cigars. He could be counted on to provide thick, translucent, plastic bags – with a yellow book background and a silhouette of walking figures superimposed. Those were great (and very tough) bags. He would also make sure to slip off (rather than break) the bands off his cigars, so that I could wear them as rings.

George had a small piece of our family’s mythology as well. My mother tells of him leaning over my bassinette, cigar in his mouth, pronouncing “Nobody’s three days old!” He was such a character and seemed so full of life.

But George took his life when I was a teenager - which devastated my Grandfather. And although everyone who was at these gatherings other than my mother and my sister are gone now, as Thanksgiving approaches each year I think of George Rilling. And I wonder about the demons which surely tortured him.

But mostly these days at Thanksgiving I am thankful.

In July of 2003 I was stung by a hornet. Not realizing the danger, I continued to work until it became clear that my body was shutting down business for keeps.

A South Bend emergency services paramedic saved my life that day. I wish I knew his name. I will never forget my despair- riding in the ambulance - at the thought of never seeing Paddy or my infant daughter again. It is good for me to remember that, hard as it is.

I am married to someone who loves, supports, challenges and believes in me. Together, we have a daughter who amazes and delights me every single day. I think you can understand why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and the one I take most to heart.