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Mon 25 Nov, 2002 02:22 pm
I grew up about thirty miles northwest of Plymouth Massachusetts
and over the years I have been there many times.
Plymouth is a charming town with many lovely sights not the least of which are a pretty harbor and miles of beachs. (It's nuclear power plant, obscenely named 'Pilgrim I', lurks unobtrusively several miles to the south of the town center.)
I was there, along with several thousand others, on a hill overlooking the harbor one day in late Spring 1957 when, with a chorus of cheers, 'Mayflower II' sailed into Plymouth harbor after re-creating the voyage of the Pilgrims.
When I visit Plymouth nowadays I still see that same tiny craft and still wonder at the courage of those long dead souls. I also end up looking again at Plymouth Rock, and, as always, marvel at what a puny specimen THAT is too.
South of town is 'Plimoth Plantation', a re-creation of the original settlement, complete with re-enactors showing what daily life was like in the early days of the colony. A visit there will quickly disabuse most people of any romantic notions of colonial life. - It was HARD.
The town of Plymouth has had annual Thanksgiving commemorations for many years. They have a parade I think, and much of the usual hoopla and boosterism typical of small town celebrations.
A few years ago, -maybe more than a few - ( time does fly) the town's celebrations began to be 'marred' or complicated, (or perhaps 'enriched' is the right word) by native american demonstrators insistent on focusing attention on the dark side of America's glorious history ie. the native american holocaust and diaspora.
This year, for reasons I'm not completely sure of, I decided to have Thanksgiving dinner with my Mom and step-daughter at a harborside restaurant in Plymouth.
It's a lovely place which we've all been to before, though never on Thanksgiving day.
After dinner, weather permitting, we'll walk along the waterfront.
Two years ago on Thanksgiving we three drove to Plymouth in the afternoon and saw an encampment of native american demonstrators not far from the Mayflower II and Plymouth Rock.
I suspect they'll be there this year too.
Well, all this lengthy musing has been leading up to one question in my mind: How do we reconcile our pride in our forefathers, in their courage, and their sacrifice, our pride in our country, with the knowledge of the injustice that was perpetrated upon others in the process?
My answer:
We don't reconcile them. They just sit there side by side; uneasily, but inseparably........ Thanksgiving and Regret.
(11-02 G.L.)
jjorge, it's been several years now, late 70's or early 80's, that the missus and I spent a couple of days in Plymouth. We had planned to stay in Boston, but we arrived in the area during evening rush hour, when traffic was so heavy we could hardly change lanes, let alone exit. Not having reservations, we decided to go with the flow until the congestion cleared. Once the flow became a drip, I checked with Rand McNally and discovered we were not far from Plymouth, so that's where we went.
I remember the high point you mentioned. Was it a cemetery or a monument where we stood, looking straight down a (cobblestone?) street to the harbor? A fine prospect it was, at any rate.
When we went to see Plymouth Rock, there was a young college lad whose summer job was to recount the landing for benefit of the tourists. He was decked out in the black & white pilgrim garb, but his facial features were those I always think of as the Boston look -- he could have passed for a Kennedy, and I was tempted to ask for an autograph, just in case ... his accent was certainly very JFK-ish. I also recall studying the large memorial board, the roll of original settlers, those who knew Squanto face-to-face, I suppose. The first winter took a great toll on them.
That's about all I recollect of Plymouth, except that I was much taken with the atmosphere of the place. Oh yeah, I seem to remember the part of the journey once we had left behind the hubbub of Boston and became intent on landing at Plymouth, that it put me in mind of traveling through the pine barrens of the Carolinas, only with a strong smell of salt air, most noticeable to a Midwesterner.
I appreciate your calling up the memory, jjorge, and I wish you and your family a blessed Thanksgiving.
debacle
Thanks for the sharing your recollections of your trip to Plymouth.
I believe there IS a smallish cemetery on the hill overlooking Plymouth harbor. I used to know the name of the hill but now have forgotten. As a matter fact I think I still have the name of the Captain of Mayflower II somewhere in my memory bank, although I can't seem to retrieve it now. the 1957 arrival of the replica of the pilgrims'ship was a BIG event locally and got a lot of media coverage.
Now that I have carried on so about Plymouth, the Pilgrims, Native-americans, etc, guess what? It turns out we won't be dining there after all!
Last night my niece called from Maine and asked me if Mom, Kelly and I would go there for Thanksgiving. I reminded her that her grandmother has refused to go anywhere further than about 35-40 miles from her home for at least ten years.
With my agreement however she sought to persuade her grandmother to go and.... lo and behold she succeeded!
So, we three will spend Thanksgiving in Scarborough Maine with my sister, brother in law and a passel (passal?) of nephews and nieces.
My sister Bonnie, and her husband have a lovely little place in the country that is still only a mile or two from the ocean. They have a tidal river that goes along the back of their property and lovely sweeping views. It is VERY New England and a nice place to be on 'Turkey day'.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving
jjorge
For what it's worth, New Mexicans insist that the first Thanksgiving in America was held here long before the arrival of the Mayflower.
Well, that should be grand, too, jjorge. Maine is one of my favorite haunts. I've traipsed up and down the coast a number of times; well, at least twixt Bah Hahbah and the MA state line.
Asherman, I can credit that. I believe Santa Fe predates any of the permanent English settlements, 1603 (was it?) vs Jamestown's 1607. I think the missing Roanoke settlement was somewhat earlier, however. But there's no question that the Spanish were in what's now NM for quite a spell before Plymouth.
No question the pilgrims were 'late-comers' compared to the Spaniards who got started about 115 years earlier.
As far as Thanksgiving is concerned I guess the the Spaniards didn't have as good PR as the pilgrims did.
I think it was in 1588 that they worked out which side was gonna write the history books.
As one who bears a mix of the genes of both early Europeans and Indians (Native Americans for those more sensitive than I) I am always mindful of our past since Columbus. I studied with mixtures of anger, pride and shame, the histories of the people involved - Custer, Jedediah Strong Smith, Coronado, Sitting Bull - tales of the Trail of Tears and books such as Bury My heart at Wounded Knee, Parkman's The Oregon Trail - But I have learned to regard everything from the past without regret, because it cannot be changed and also because every aspect of it is responsible for the good as much as the bad of today. Best to simply accept it all and move on.
@jjorge,
jjorge, I'm going to sound vapid here-- but that is so depressing. Are you sure you're not projecting some other internalized regrets onto the day? Everything you've said is true, still, it's nothing a good meal, good company and a view of the Atlantic can't help soothe you. You know what I'm saying?
@Gala,
hmm... a reply to my topic OF SEVEN YEARS AGO --amazing!
I could say, 'looks like the internet is our best shot at immortality'
I could say, ' Gala, what the @^#!%! took you so long!' (unkind)
I could say, 'it isn't good to hold these things in for so long' ( the therapist in me)
I could say, 'I regrettably concur --you do sound A LITTLE vapid.'
I could say, 'I stand by my words of 2002.'
...but instead I'll say, 'Best wishes and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!'
@jjorge,
I know I sound vapid, trust me. Otherwise, your response has completely gone over my head.
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