The Thanksgiving that I remember most was in 1979. My grandparents had flown in from New York, and all the married siblings had gathered at my parents home for a great day. We had spent days preparing the house and food. Final preparations were almost complete.
The table was set with china, crystal goblets (with the traditional drink of grape juice and sprite already in it), silverware and mashed potatoes. The turkey was being carved, and we were gathering around the table. That is when the tragedy struck.We heard a noise as the table. . . broke, right down the middle! China, goblets, potatoes and juice went crashing into the middle. Some of the smaller children started crying, probably because of the noise of screaming adults. Luckily, most of the china survived unharmed. Several broken goblets and some purple potatoes were the only casualties.
The only way, it seemed, to salvage the day was to find another table. The only other table large enough to seat us all was our ping pong table! It was in the unfinished basement, and we didn't want to eat there. The dining room wasn't big enough to accommodate that, so we decided to eat in the family room. The ping pong table would not fit through the door, so it had to be taken apart to be moved.
When it was finally reassembled, we realized how much taller it was than a normal table. We all sat with the table about chest height. About an hour after the tragedy, we sat down and ate and laughed. We had different drinks, stained clothes and fewer potatoes (purple just didn't seem right), but it was still a great Thanksgiving.