Turkey Day

Turkey Day

The sound of silversmiths working in a sweatshop making Indian jewelry
brought together young kids from different reservations. Each day was
filled with work turning out rings, bracelets, squash blossoms and
more. They worked together singing Indian songs from their work
benches, and during breaks played basketball outside. As time went by
shared more than their time there but also when the day was done, time
with one another.

When you are far from home, a long ways from the rez, you seek out
others like you, it doesn't matter their tribe, just that they are
natives and share a kinship in the way they were raised and like many
people like to laugh and play ball together.

Three of them were newly married less than a year and lived not too far
from one another. Turkey day was coming and so decided to get together
to celebrate Thanksgiving. It was small affair, just the three couples;
they were a mixed up group, far from their own reservations. In the
midst of them were an Omaha, a Hopi, Ute, Navajo and Sioux all far from
home married less than a year. Their apartments were small in this
college town and so they decided to have their first Thanksgiving
together.

David and Gretchen were just married that summer, she was a little
taller than he was, she stood 5'10" and he was 5'8". It was the time of
clogs; those shoes that had thick soles; some were an inch others grew
to 8 inches or so. David worked the silver and Gretchen buffed the
jewelry. When they came to work, she was taller, but one day he walked
in and stood nest to her and they were the same height. Looking down he
had on those cloggy shoes, an inch or two added. A few days later
Gretchen came in and she had on the same size shoes. On the following
payday, David was seen walking around with shoes that were three inches
high and so he stood taller than she did. Well, Gretchen came in with
shoes that made her taller still.

A week later, the boss came in and wondered why all the silversmiths
were standing not too far from the door to the shop. He was told we are
just waiting for a little bit for David and Gretchen. They came in and
stood there, their shoes had soles 6-inch soles. They had stilts on,
and had a hard time walking. There were thirty of us there and we all
laughed and they did not say a thing but went to work. It was the Sioux
girl, Gretchen who got to cook the turkey for us.

Curtis and Maxine had just had a little girl, Marie. Curtis was easy
going he came from Macy, Nebraska, Omaha country and his wife was from
Second Mesa. He was a good silversmith, his work was clean and he neat.
I learned a lot about patience from him. He never got mad but took any
problems out on the basketball court, he was quick and agile and a good
ball player. We spent a lot of lunches outside playing ball with the
chintzy hoop we used. There is a lot to be said for Indian basketball,
it is a game that tests skill, stamina, endurance, teamwork and is
having a good time. All the things that seem to bother you float away
in the wind when you play ball and life in the city is bearable
afterwards. Sometimes the group would get together and sing, Bobo, a
Crow brought a base drum and we learned to make drumsticks and sing
those old pow wow songs and every once in a while a 49er to stir things
up.

My first born was on the way and so when Turkey day came my wife, Merl
was in the hospital my son born the day before, so I made the salad and
told Curtis when I got downstairs that Merl was at the hospital, but he
already knew, Maxine had already visited her there seeing the baby boy
we had. I went in and we waited for David and it got toward noon. They
finally got there and we were hungry. The table was ready, and
everything was layed out. Gretchen brought in the turkey and set it
down. Maxine helped her and got a knife to carve it. It looked really
good, the juices were just on the skin, it made it look moist and you
could smell it. Ah, nothing like turkey at Thanksgiving.
She put it on the table and we said a simple prayer and then Curtis cut
the turkey. He reached over and picked up the knife and began to cut it
like they show in Betty Crocker's CookBook along the bottom of the
breast. He was having a hard time, it wouldn't cut. He tried to cut it
but it wouldn't cut. He looked at Gretchen, who sat there quietly
watching him. He peeled the skin back and said, I think this bird is
still frozen. Gretchen said I put it in the oven three hours ago and it
should be done. Maxine said, did you thaw it out last night all the
way? Gretchen said, I didn't know you had to do that. Being so far from
home and not having really cooked before she was still learning. We
laughed a good one and she started to cry, but we told her it was ok.

We called all over town and found one restaurant that was open and so
we had chicken for Thanksgiving, but it was good one and when we see
each other every once in a while we laugh about it. This was our turkey
day.