The First Thanksgiving

The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock in late September. One of the first things they noticed was the chill in the air. This was the Northeast, not the Carolinas. One of the Pilgrims suggested that this may not have been the best time of the year to arrive. It wouldn’t be possible to plant and harvest a crop. He went on to say that they should have brought more stores to see them through the winter.

The elders ordered him beaten with stick and tied to a tree for having no faith.

A couple of the locals were watching this from the forest and laughing at the hilarious hats these pale, odd-looking strangers were wearing. They went back to their village and told everyone what they saw. The tribal elders ordered them beaten with sticks and tied to trees for lying.

As winter went on, the food supply got lower and lower. Something needed to be done. The elders met to decide.

“The only answer is to ration out the few berries and nuts we have”, one said.

“How much would that be?”, another asked.

“I calculate three berries and two nuts per person until harvest”, the first elder said.

“We could ration six berries and four nuts per person if we cut out a bunch of the weaker ones”, a third elder suggested.

“Yes, then we’d have revolt that we might lose and then we’d be out”, the first elder said.

The woods were full of game, deer, turkey and ducks. The elders decided to send their best shooters out to hunt. Better than berries and nuts. The hunters went out loaded for bear although they hoped to do better than bear meat. What they did was to push a forked stick into the ground, lay their blunderbusses in the fork, aim at a deer or turkey, light the tinder box and ten seconds later the blunderbuss would fire. Since the blunderbuss looked like a trumpet with a handle, the shot could go anywhere.

Mr. Deer, watching these funny-hatted people, had no fear of them. When the tinder box ignited, the deer ran off. As long as the deer got fifty feet he was safe. Accuracy wasn’t a product of those early weapons. You were more likely to kill the deer with fright than lead shot.

The hunters returned to Plymouth Rock with a single turkey. They hadn’t shot it. The turkey flew into a boulder. After dressing it each Pilgrim got one sliver of meat. This wasn’t going well. Something had to be done.

“Let us talk to the local natives. They seem well fed. Let us barter for food”, one elder suggested.

So they met with the local chiefs and offered to barter for food.

“En agha tu ser vantope sid gorma”, one of the chiefs said. translated it meant, “They want our meat in return for these stupid baubles”.

The natives ran the Pilgrims off after beating them with sticks. The Elders met again.

“We have to have food or we will all be dead”, one said.

“So, let’s steal it from the heathen, Godless natives”, another suggested.

That’s what they did. It got them through the winter and spring. After the harvest they decided to have a great thanksgiving, thanking the Lord for a bountiful harvest, and ignoring the fact that they stole last years food. To make up for it, they invited all the locals to the feast.

It went well at first. The natives suspected the Pilgrims had stolen their food last year since there was no one else around. They were going to let it slide until the wine came out. The natives had never drank wine and the Pilgrim only drank a single cup to praise the Lord. The natives drank it by the barrel. Then in a drunken rage they went on a rampage.

Oh, the crying women! Oh, the crying men!

The drunken natives had stolen all the shiny gorma.