Thanksgiving is here! The turkey is in the oven roasting and the sides prepped for family and guests later today. We have a little quiet time for a moment. As I am sitting here taking a break it reminds me of Thanksgiving '79. I was in sixth grade, eleven years old, just learning my first Times Union paper route which I delivered on Norwood Avenue, Ontario Street, and Woodlawn Avenue. Also, one of my great grandmothers, Mary Elizabeth Schick Bailey LaClair had recently passed away on 21st of October.
On that Thursday, forty years ago, we were eating Thanksgiving dinner at my grandmother's house on Hollywood Avenue, in her finished basement. My brother and I loved eating holiday dinners in the basement at grandma's house. Although, we did not eat down there that often, we usually ate in the kitchen, we thought it was fun and were disappointed when dinner was held in the kitchen. The finished basement was different. However, now I understand why we were not fed in the basement regularly. It was a lot of work bringing everything downstairs and then everything back upstairs when finished.
Sometime after dinner that day, the family started reminiscing about the old days. Many tales were told, most of which I cannot remember even though I was interested. Names of cousins, great grandparents, aunts and uncles along with dates and places were mentioned. At some point I grabbed a note pad and a pen and began to write this information down. I recall mentioning that next year in seventh grade I was going to have to do a family tree for a Social Studies project. Looks like I got a head start!
Probably for an hour or so this info was jotted down. I was very fortunate when I began my genealogical research because I knew all four of my grandparents. I even lived with my paternal grandparents in our two-family flat in Albany. Grandma and grandpa upstairs and us downstairs. All of my grandparents were able to give me the names of their grandparents. So, I had a great start in my research. Immediately I had my family tree back to all of my great great grandparents.
Shortly thereafter I am sure that my grandmother, Agnes, was driving me around the South End in Albany showing me where everyone lived. And of course she had me at St. Agnes Cemetery in Menands and at Our Lady Help of Christians Cemetery in Glenmont.
So, now forty years has past since that Thanksgiving afternoon when I began my family tree. Much has changed over the years. My grandparents are no longer with us. My parents now inhabit the position of grandparents and I am no longer one of the kids. My children hold that spot now. And my wife and I are now hosting Thanksgiving dinner. What might we learn later today about the family?
That Thanksgiving dinner seems at times long ago and yet other times like yesterday. No one knows what the future holds for anyone. Perhaps there will be another forty years of genealogical research for me or perhaps one of my daughters will get the research bug and take over where I left off. Time will tell.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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