My family made Thanksgiving the pinnacle of our family celebrations. Even when our only vehicle was dad’s truck, we got up early on Thanksgiving day, had a sturdy breakfast, avd left for the trip from Deepstep to Dacula, GA. We would spend the day with Grandaddy and Grandmother Jewel Moore. It was a treat from day one. Their farm, several miles from a paved road, was neatly manicured, and well tended, surrounded by assorted fruit trees and shrubs.
One Thanksgiving celebration we watched a portable cider mill grind apples from his trees. It was a first for me. Apple trees were plentiful on his farm, but my favorite tree was the large cherry tree near their water well. Living that far in the country, there was no water or sewerage system. Grandaddy had a deep well. I now know why the well was only about eight inches wide; being that near Stone Mountain, they had to drill through a significant piece of granite to reach underground water; so they drilled as little of the granite as necessary.
Grandmother Jewel, a public school teacher, was organized and punctual with the meal. A delicious array of food was spread on the family table; our family did not get into the turkey-and-all-its-fixings. Instead we usually feasted on roast beef, or chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, beans, cornbread, and a congealed fruit salad. She also baked an excellent coconut cake. Grandaddy was a quiet man, who when he spoke, though in gentle tones, he was heard. My seat at the table was next to him.
There was a bonus in later years; my own family began going in to Atlanta Thanksgiving night. Rich’s Department Store at the corner of Alabama and Broad Street had a four-story bridge across Forsyth Street to its adjacent building. On Thanksgiving night, each bridge was lighted and filled with colorful Atlanta choirs that sang Christmas songs and Carols. The climax was when the huge Christmas tree atop the bridge blazed into lights at he final note of O Holy Night. The crowds on the street below erupted into cheers and applause.
On Friday morning we joined the throngs as the doors opened for shopping. Paige and I scurried along through all the toy sections letting our two little girls marvel over and wonder at what Santa might bring on Christmas Eve. Rich’s had a two-hour child care opportunity, which Paige and I used while we hurried back to purchase those “necessary” toys, which we hid in the car for the trip home.
We topped off with a trip on the “Pink Pig,” a suspended Pig-shaped-monorail on the roof of Rich’s; some winters it was a cold, but still a fun ride. I hate to say it, but the sad replacement for the Pink Pig being used today is an embarassment to its legacy. Actually, I don’t hate to say it. The original Pink Pig was classy, unique, and sheer fun for the kids!
Happy Thanksgiving, to one and all!
©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024
Thank you. My post was “Short Term Gratification.”
Willis, once again you have captured a memory from years ago for me. Al and I drove my mother, visiting us from the tiny mountain town of Blairsville, downtown to watch the lighting of the great tree from the top of Rich’s department store, We left from our house near Stone Mountain early, because it was raining and we needed to find a close parking place.
Mother never forgot that experience, nor did she stop talking about it. Even the two weekday caregivers who stayed with her following a second stroke heard about the trip to Rich’s – surely a memory to last a lifetime.
I’ll always remember the time Paige took mom, Beth and myself to Rich’s in Atlanta. I don’t remember Melanie and Jennifer or James being with us. We rode the Pink Pig!
Thanks for the sweet memories!💕
A wonderful story. We went downtown to Rich’s on Thanksgiving night. What a wonderful experience, the music and tree. The Pink Pig in the toy dept was so much fun. Good ole days and lots of memories. Yes we used the baby sitting service. The Tea Room was great.