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Daddy Warbucks, Pilgrims and pie

Last week I had the great opportunity to once again play Daddy Warbucks in the Broadway Bound Kids production of Annie. This was my third time playing Warbucks and each time I am reminded of how great theatre is for both adults and children. Theatre teaches participants how to overcome their fears.  There’s nothing like standing in front of a packed house having forgotten ones lines, knowing that somehow, one way or another, the show must go on.

Theatre also provides, for all involved, an incredible gift. I recall our last show, the curtain had closed and the musicians were playing the Annie favorite “Tomorrow”, as the crowd was leaving the theatre. Everyone, especially the young children, were singing as loud as they could, in key, without a care in the world. For thirty seconds, not a soul was thinking about homework, poverty, sickness or any of the ills plaguing our world. For thirty seconds we all experienced complete unfettered joy. Though I will never forget that moment, one has to wonder if the Pilgrims had such an outlet to erase, if just for a few minutes, the tough road that lay ahead.

The Pilgrims, seeking religious freedom, set out from Southhampton, England in the Mayflower, arriving in Plymouth in 1620.  The journey took over two months, challenging all of the 102 souls who choose to make the pilgrimage to the New World.  They landed in what is now Massachusetts and on December 11 signed the Mayflower Compact – the first civil document governing the Plymouth Colony.  As the saying goes, “hindsight is 20-20.”  It may have been more prudent for the expedition to leave England a few months earlier, as the harsh winter proved deadly for the young colony.

The Pilgrims simply did not have enough time to prepare, nor did they expect such a harsh New England winter. Half of the colonists lost their lives.  Such a toll rolls off the pen rather easily 400 years after the tragedy, but the loss of life must have been devastating for the survivors.  But he new colonists were a highly religious group, and their prayers were finally answered.  It was the indigenous people of the area, the Wampanoags, which helped save those still holding on to life, by teaching them how to survive and providing them with food. The colonists did plant crops in the spring and by summer were harvesting their bounty.

Almost to the day, one full year since the signing of the Mayflower Compact, a three-day feast took place on December 13, 1621. The Pilgrims celebrated with their Wampanoag friends thanking them and God. This festival set the stage for an American tradition, though historian’s debate as to whether previous gatherings to offer “thanks” may have been the first Thanksgiving.  A similar celebration took place in what is now St. Augustine, Florida in 1565 and celebrations in Virginia as early as 1607. Whatever the origins of the first Thanksgiving may be, it was 1621’s three-day festival that may have introduced poultry as the primary course for all Thanksgiving celebrations thereafter.

In the words of Pilgrim Edward Winslow, “our harvest being gotten in, our Governor sent four men on fowling…the four in one day killed as much fowl to serve the company almost a week… and by the goodness of God we are far from want.”  President George Washington issued a proclamation in 1789, to celebrate its first day of Thanksgiving to God under the new constitution.  But it wasn’t until 1863, when Abraham Lincoln made it official, declaring the last Thursday in November as a national day of Thanksgiving.  Congress permanently established the fourth Thursday of each November as a national holiday in 1941.

What about the pie? Its origins have been around since the time of the ancient Egyptians and have evolved over the years to take many forms and functions throughout the kitchens of the world. While the phrase “as American as apple pie” might be a stretch, Thanksgiving in our home would not be Thanksgiving without a full array of pies to choose from.  The origins of pumpkin pie also evolved through time, and I for one am glad it did.  The Wampanoag roasted long strips of pumpkin over their fires like marshmallows and ate them.  The colonists in turn sliced off the pumpkin top removing the seeds, filling the pumpkin with milk, spices and honey, and then baked it in hot ashes.

If singing “Tomorrow” at the top of your lungs doesn’t feed your fancy or provide you with unfettered joy, go ahead and do the next best thing and stuff your face with all the fixings. Happy Thanksgiving.

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