18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Thursday, November 27, 1913: Thanksgiving—Spent the day at home reading a book. No one came and so the time passed on and the day is almost spent.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
I know that I can’t go back in time—but I feel bad that Grandma had such a boring Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is one of the biggest holidays of the year at my house. (If we could easily travel back and forth across time, I’d send a message, “Hey Grandma, want to come over to my house this year and join an awesome Thanksgiving gathering with some of your descendants?”)
Grandma’s family never seemed to do much on Thanksgiving Day. Maybe it was just a less important holiday back then. Here’s what she wrote in 1912 and 1911.
Yesterday thought perhaps I’d go up to McEwensville for my dinner, but then I changed my mind as I didn’t think I could afford it. Besse was out this afternoon. I actually believe that I am getting a rather bad cold.
It sounds like a church or the community hall in McEwensville held a Thanksgiving dinner (that Grandma didn’t attend). A least Grandma’s married sister Besse, who lived in nearby Watsontown, came out for awhile.
Today is Thanksgiving. We didn’t have such a terrible sumptuous repast either. I would have liked to have had a piece of a turkey gobbler and a dish of ice cream, but we were far from that. I sat at home all day doing miscellaneous jobs which I didn’t relish any too well.