As the hot rolls rise, tummies rumble and laughter roars, Thanksgiving’s magic fills the air.  

Growing up in the Douglass family, Thanksgiving is always about turkey and touchdowns. I am lucky enough to have lots of family, and Thanksgiving is always a big time for us all to come together to share stories and enjoy one anothers’ company.

A typical Thanksgiving would be all five of my immediate family loading up in the white Expedition and making a trip down to Snyder. The whole way there, my parents give us a speech to not ask questions to certain relatives and to be very kind and polite to the all the old folks there and to always speak loud when talking to Pappy. 

Once we arrived, we would always notice something new about the house, the animals around it or maybe even a relative’s new car parked out front. The next thing I knew, Pappy and Granny were greeting us before we could even unbuckle our seatbelts, welcoming us with open arms, smelling like pumpkin spice and everything nice.  

As I would go into the house, the game of “Who’s Who” begins as I am greeted with hugs and kisses of relatives whose names I don’t even know. Once I get all the way through the lineup of people asking what age I am and what sports I play for the thousandth time, I made a beeline for the backdoor trying to escape the crowds. But little did I know I wasn’t the only grandchild who got out of the masses.

All the cousins were outside playing the best round of sardines out in the huge pasture with all kinds of critters. Even though sardines is basically backwards hide-and-go-seek, it’s still more fun to hide first because sometimes I would get to sneak off into the house before the meal is ready. After playing with all the cousins, Mom would make me go sit down and talk with all the crazy aunts before it was time to eat.

When the big event was ready, everyone in the whole house was ready to scarf down the best cooked turkey anyone had ever eaten. I don’t even like turkey, but you just don’t turn down Granny Sue’s Thanksgiving turkey. We then gather around to bless the food as all the dogs, going crazy from so many wonderful aromas, run around trying to figure out what’s going on. We fight to the front of the line to get Aunt Laura’s green beans, Mama Douglass’s cranberry salad and the magical pecan pie that somehow always shows up every year. Even though all the grandchildren are grown, we will always sit at the “kids table” in a completely different room so the parents and grandparents can all be at one table. While trading off look-out duty to see if the parents are watching, we one by one toss the gross food to all the dogs.

Then, it’s time for all the females in the whole house to clean every plate and the entire kitchen while the men go outside to shoot some turkey in the pasture. Done with our jobs, everyone would begin to settle in for a long nap, and that is where the Thanksgiving magic begins to fade away. People start to go home and back to their busy lives, but I always remember Thanksgiving as the time of year we all come together as a family and enjoy the holiday and everything that comes with it.