“Try to go COLD TURKEY for Thanksgiving?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Millions of kids will miss out on the fun over Thanksgiving weekend. Grouchy or misguided grownup spoilsports will put a damper on the day. When asked to “Please pass the potatoes”, they will send the dish along with a generous helping of politics.

Here’s a suggestion. Tell your guests “We’re going “cold turkey” on politics today.” Remind them that the election is over, and today is the day to count their blessings. Appoint someone to be your political police. Give them authority to immediately banish from the table political junkies who mention the recent election.

Ask your guests to name something for which they are thankful. Tell everyone that we have the freedom to celebrate our traditions or change them, as we wish. Advise them to nurture and cherish that freedom. Mention that the pilgrims celebrated their freedom in their new country with the Indians who helped them survive their first winter. Remind the cooks that at the Pilgrim’s first Thanksgiving, Governor Bradford invited Chief Massasoit to share the settler’s first Thanksgiving feast. The chief brought ninety warriors with him and they stayed and celebrated for three days! Makes cooking for ten or fifteen seem easy, doesn’t it?

Actually, the first official Thanksgiving in the United States was proclaimed by Abraham Lincoln on October 3, l863, as the Civil War raged in this country. The thought of the Pilgrims and Indians once sitting together in harmony was comforting to this nation during that time of war.

Our ancestors started the tradition of sharing food and games with family and friends on the first Thanksgiving and I think you will agree, it’s up to all of us to keep and cherish those family customs. I promise you the investment of precious time and borrowed energy will set in motion a chain reaction of harmony for years to come. It’s a celebration of life with a group of people more precious than life itself.

When our kids and grandkids look back on thanksgiving, 2024, I hope they remember everything good about the day. They will remember the heavenly smell of the bird roasting in the oven, the taste of sweet potatoes and who really won the game, the guys or the girl’s team.

“NOTHING FAIR ABOUT STATUES”

By

Gerry Niskern

A wise author once said, “You can only write about war by writing one soldier’s story.” I’d like to go back in Arizona history and tell you about two Arizona war heroes. Lt. Frank Luke Jr. and Sgt. Sylvestre Herrera, who both received the Congressional Medal of Honor. Luke’s was awarded posthumously after WWI and Hererra, during WWII, was the first living Arizona Congressional Medal of Honor recipient.
When I was a young girl, my friends and I used to wait for the streetcar in front of the State Capitol. While we waited we gazed up at a statue of the handsome Frank Luke Jr. and fantasized about the history of the young flying Ace. Frank was looking upward into the sky, his flying cap and goggles in hand.
Surprisingly, I was not taught in school about Luke’s heroic skills as a “balloon buster” during WWI. He flew his planes thru such punishing enemy fire that five were written off after his missions.During two weeks in September, l918, in only ten missions, he destroyed fourteen heavily defended German surveillance balloons and four airplanes. He was only twenty years old when he gave his life in an air battle near the village of Murvaux, France.
I finally learned more about Lieutenant Frank’s life from the fascinating and factually correct book, “Terror of the Autumn Skies” by Blaine Pardoe.
Different vivid memories of Silvestre Herrera take me back to Union Station on 4th Ave in downtown Phoenix in August, l945 during WWII. One evening when I was a little girl my parents took me to see a brave young hero’s return home. When the train stopped the crowd surged forward and many hands plucked him from his wheelchair. I was distressed to see that he had no legs as he was passed from shoulder to shoulder of the cheering crowd. Finally Sgt. Hererra was placed on the back of a red convertible for a parade up Washington.
History tells us that when his platoon was pinned down by Germans in a forest near Metzwiller, France, he charged the enemy and captured 8 enemy soldiers. That same day, to draw enemy fire away from his comrades, Hererra entered a mine field and in two explosions lost both legs. He continued to fire upon the enemy which allowed his platoon to skirt the field and capture the enemy position.
Both young men came from completely different backgrounds. Frank was one of nine children from a prominent Arizona family. The statue of Luke is in front of the Arizona State Capitol on l7th Ave, facing down Washington.
Sylvestre was an orphan, born in Mexico, and raised by an Uncle in Glendale. He was 27, married with three children when he volunteered and answered this country’s call. You won’t find a statue at the capitol erected in his honor.

“NOTHING FAIR ABOUT STATUES”

By

Gerry Niskern

A wise author once said, “You can only write about war by writing one soldier’s story.” I’d like to go back in Arizona history and tell you about two Arizona war heroes. Lt. Frank Luke Jr. and Sgt. Sylvestre Herrera, who both received the Congressional Medal of Honor. Luke’s was awarded posthumously after WWI and Hererra, during WWII, was the first living Arizona Congressional Medal of Honor recipient.
When I was a young girl, my friends and I used to wait for the streetcar in front of the State Capitol. While we waited we gazed up at a statue of the handsome Frank Luke Jr. and fantasized about the history of the young flying Ace. Frank was looking upward into the sky, his flying cap and goggles in hand.
Surprisingly, I was not taught in school about Luke’s heroic skills as a “balloon buster” during WWI. He flew his planes thru such punishing enemy fire that five were written off after his missions.During two weeks in September, l918, in only ten missions, he destroyed fourteen heavily defended German surveillance balloons and four airplanes. He was only twenty years old when he gave his life in an air battle near the village of Murvaux, France.
I finally learned more about Lieutenant Frank’s life from the fascinating and factually correct book, “Terror of the Autumn Skies” by Blaine Pardoe.
Different vivid memories of Silvestre Herrera take me back to Union Station on 4th Ave in downtown Phoenix in August, l945 during WWII. One evening when I was a little girl my parents took me to see a brave young hero’s return home. When the train stopped the crowd surged forward and many hands plucked him from his wheelchair. I was distressed to see that he had no legs as he was passed from shoulder to shoulder of the cheering crowd. Finally Sgt. Hererra was placed on the back of a red convertible for a parade up Washington.
History tells us that when his platoon was pinned down by Germans in a forest near Metzwiller, France, he charged the enemy and captured 8 enemy soldiers. That same day, to draw enemy fire away from his comrades, Hererra entered a mine field and in two explosions lost both legs. He continued to fire upon the enemy which allowed his platoon to skirt the field and capture the enemy position.
Both young men came from completely different backgrounds. Frank was one of nine children from a prominent Arizona family. The statue of Luke is in front of the Arizona State Capitol on l7th Ave, facing down Washington.
Sylvestre was an orphan, born in Mexico, and raised by an Uncle in Glendale. He was 27, married with three children when he volunteered and answered this country’s call. You won’t find a statue at the capitol erected in his honor.