Gather at the Table

Every Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas the Lewellan family–Lew and Katherine, and whatever kids were at home (Kathe, Paul, and Gail)–would pack into our 1954 Ford and head to Montgomery, Minnesota, home of Kolacky Days and a Green Giant canning plant where Mom met Dad.

No one asked, “Where will we go for the holidays this year?” We went to see Mom’s parents, my grandparents. Henry was a tough-as-nails railroad man. Katherine was a telephone operator, a fiercely independent woman, and an incredible cook.

Because my grandfather had been abused by his father, he ran away from home at age twelve. He lied about his age and started working for the railroad. He changed his last name to Briggs, a name he saw on the side of a passing truck. Eventually he became a conductor on the freight trains for the M&St.L. In the caboose he held court and fixed meals for the crew.

Because Grandpa lived on scraps as a child, at the Briggs home on Oak Street, no hungry man or woman was ever turned away. The house was a gathering place for the neighborhood. On holidays the whole extended family gathered. Twenty or more people were typical.

Maybe you’ve seen a Hallmark holiday meal: turkey, cranberries, mashed potatoes, biscuits? Amateurs. There was always a large turkey, 25 pounds or more, plus a goose and/or a duck, and a ham. Usually there were three types of stuffing: sausage, oyster, and herb. Cranberries, both the jelly and the crushed berries with bits of orange. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, biscuits (can’t have too much starch). Corn, green beans, maybe peas. Jello salad. A couple types of herring. And for desserts two or three pies and a half-dozen varieties of cookies. When the Old Testament mentions the Fifth Deadly Sin of Gluttony, this is the meal it was referring to. Save room for eggnog with a generous shot of brandy from the bottomless bottle my grandfather carried.

But more than the food, I remember the noise. It was a joyful time. A time of celebrate. A time to get caught up with old friends. And it didn’t matter the weather, or the national events, or the recent funerals, there was always joy.