By CHARLES BOOTHE - |
It was a day of being with family, a day of sharing stories, food and laughter. It was a day of being thankful for all of your blessings, whether abundant or meager.
It was a day when many of us descended on grandma's house for a Thanksgiving dinner.
This was a day, though, I would love to forget, but can't.
And it all started out so well.
Cousin Gee and I arrived early so we could go outside and explore the nearby creek, hoping to spot a trout darting in the shallow rapids of the cold creek, which at that point was only about a quarter of a mile as the crow flies from the source, the Big Spring as it has always been called.
Of course, the stream flowed down the valley between the steep hills, so plenty of exploring was all around us. Seeing no fish, we climbed a hill across from my grandmother's house, hoping to spot a deer or jump a pheasant.
Staying within earshot of her house, we knew one of our mothers would soon yell for us, to get ready for dinner.