Imagine a white farmhouse nestled back in a pecan grove with a circular driveway, big magnolia trees with a tree swing and a front door with screen door. This is where Thanksgiving begins for the McArthur clan. It starts on Wednesday night at my mother-in-law’s home – the home where my husband and his two siblings grew up. His father grew up there also. The house is filled with photos of generations of McArthurs and dozens of photo albums of Thanksgivings past. Family begins to trickle in at about 6:30 pm. It is not long before the house is full of conversation and the smell of dinner. It is traditional to start the three day celebration at Hackbranch which is the name of my husband’s family farm. Brunswick stew, corn muffins, marinated cole slaw and a plethora of homemade cakes, cookies and pies are the standard fare. It would not be Thanksgiving without them. The screen door opens and slams closed as people arrive and it is an easy evening with lots of laughter and hugs. All but 4 of the McArthur clan do not live at or near the homeplace so the incoming crowd almost fully books and takes over one of the local motels. After dinner they wander back to the motel and the visiting continues late into the evening from room to room. The lobby always has some McAthurs hanging about. “Welcome McArthur clan” is always posted on the marquis outside. Everbody in town knows that we have gathered – again – for another wonderful Thanksgiving.
This family tradition has been going on for over 40 yrs – maybe closer to 50. No one is sure exactly how long it has been happening. I have been married to Reid for almost 30 years and it was well-established when we met. I remember the first time I was invited. It was serious business. No one subjects a boyfriend or girlfriend to this gathering of big personalities unless it is a serious relationship. I remember being overwhelmed but also “wowed” with the way the family welcomed me.
Thursday – Thanksgiving day – begins with the family gathering at the little family church called McGregor Presbyterian. Think of the prettiest little red brick church with white trim and beautiful windows and you have it….inside there are wood pews – just enough for each family to have one to sit on. We start our traditional McArthur Thanksgiving service at 11:3o am. We are serious about giving thanks – there is even a printed program for the service. But it is not a traditional church service – it is a service of thankfulness for family and country and a vehicle for family news. It is also a time of reflection on what it means to be a part of this family. Uncle Don McArthur is our patriarch of the family and is very active in the church so he greets us and encourages us to find our places so that we can begin. My mother-in-law, Anice McArthur is our matriarch of the clan and she is right up front on the piano. We are a busy bunch so it is difficult to silence the room but Uncle Don graciously presides and silences us in order that we can begin to sing. We generally sing things like God Bless America and Our Country Tis of Thee – things we all know the words to and are confident about singing. We are champions of the spoken word but song – let’s just say that we get through it. I am always moved to tears with the patriotic songs no matter how badly we sing them. I keep a tissue close by…..
Then the best part of the service is at hand – the family news! Pew by pew – the head of that family stands up in their pew and gives a summation of what has occurred within their family. There are always new babies and in some years some losses. We give thanks for the new members and those we miss. It is a special time of rememberence and welcoming. There are about 20 pews in the church and a family occupies each one – sometimes doubling up – so it takes quite a bit of time to hear it all but it is so perfect because we all hear it at once. That means the rest of the three day celebration is just all about playing with one another.
Uncle Don is a wise gentleman so he knows that before he lets the bunch of us leave the church we need to have a blessing for lunch before we scatter throughout the trees to walk down the dirt road that leads to the original family homeplace – which we lovingly call McGregor. The dirt road is lined with old barns filled with vintage farm equipment – it’s like a history lesson in farming. McGregor is just beyond the magnolia trees….
Think of a beautiful white farmhouse with wrap-around porch and lots of gingerbread trim. Add an enormous camelia bush right by the front steps, put some cows in the back yard, lots of rocking chairs on the porch and an old white picket fence and you have McGregor. It is the dearest of places to all of us – even to those that are fortunate to have married into this family. It is where the McArthur clan established itself. Eight McArthur children were born and raised in this house. All of the original furniture remains. It is difficult to tell you how beautiful it is.
Uncle Don has already blessed the food but before he allows us access to the fine Thanksgiving fare we gather on the front steps for a family photo. We are in some years 80 strong and in others as few as 60. It is my understanding that we are pushing 80 this year. The photo is quite a production but we are cooperative so that we can get to the turkey. There is usually quite a bit of shouting from the crowd to HURRY! Taped to the wall on the porch we find our seating assignments and also directions on where to get our food. The seating arrangements used to be written by hand on notebook paper. They are now printed out with a bold font that is easy to read. I sort of miss the notebook paper. People are assigned to sit in every room of the house including the hall and the kitchen. The seating arrangements are a big job. I would not want that responsibility.
The meal is catered and we all pitch in to cover the costs. There are no dishes to do so we can hurry back to the motel or our homes and change into hunting or play clothes. The rest of Thursday and all of Friday is spent at a cabin on a pond that we call The Little House. Activities include hunting, horseback riding, skeet shooting, canoeing, fishing, cards, checkers and lots of rocking. We eat constantly – grazing on the left-overs from Wednesday night and Thanksgiving lunch. The evenings are spent in the lobby of the motel watching college football. Good byes are said a little along the way so it is not a mass exodus. It’s easier that way. We trickle in - we trickle out. And we count the days until we will all be together again.
It’s the best time of the year. Ask any one of the clan – any age – any time and they will tell you that Thanksgiving is their favorite holiday. Ask me? I love it and I am one of “those that married in”! The tradition is destined to go on for many years because those of us that are becoming the senior members can see the youth bonding and holding dear the traditions already in place. They will make sure it happens because they will want their children to know the joy.
It is with a tinge of sadness that I will only get to participate in the Wednesday night gathering this year as I am flying out to Texas to see my family. I have three brothers and parents that I only see every two years. But I am not worried – I will still be a McArthur next year and they will gather again. It’s a sure thing – just 365 days away. I am already looking forward….
