The family that started with Delbert and Judith Landt who farmed in Newport beginning in the 1890s, held reunions twice a year – on the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving.
When Marjory Lapp, the last of the generation of Delbert and Judith’s seven children, died several years ago, the family discontinued the Thanksgiving get-togethers, but still gather every year on the Fourth. This July about 40 or 50 people were there.
I remember the Thanksgiving feasts from my own childhood that were so big the family had to move to the 4-H building in Newport, now the town hall, because no one’s house could accommodate the crowd of relatives and friends.
Thanksgiving 1976
My father remembers Thanksgiving on the farm. “There was always room for more,” he said fondly this week as he recalled the huge gatherings. It’s wonderful to be part of a family that acts like a Norman Rockwell painting looks – huge meals, every woman outdoing her cousins and sisters with the cooking, and with big eaters being appreciated too. Dad said everybody knew
that Janet’s boys (Richard and Leonard Holt) could really go through the potatoes.
We usually had three turkeys and the food filled the long tables to groaning. Dinner rolls were made from scratch, as was everything else. Nobody worried about cholesterol or watching the figure; food was there to be enjoyed and shared.
Loris Harrison, Rena Landt Palmer’s daughter and my Dad’s cousin, told me that one year she had gone away to school at Stout and “I got orders from headquarters to be home for Thanksgiving since it might be Grandma’s (Judith’s) last Thanksgiving.” Judith had moved into town after Bert’s death with her three youngest girls.
Loris recalls the difficult trip coming into the Dells in the middle of a big snowstorm that was so bad her parents barely made it into town from their farm for Thanksgiving. Also, she adds, Grandma lived for quite a few more Thanksgivings, long enough for Loris to be married and with a child of her own.
I loved bringing my own family back to the Dells for Thanksgiving. If I had been away for awhile out of the loop, I was hard put to name all the relatives for my children, but my mother, who married into the Landt family, kept them all straight and helped us out.
The tradition was wonderful; but the best things were the values learned at those tables. Generosity, abundance, inclusiveness, love and thankfulness all come with us wherever we go. The years I didn’t come back to the Dells, I made Thanksgiving dinners for my family and friends with the same care and abundance.
The memories also remind me of how important stories are in families. One way we learn how to be a family is by the stories we are told about our ancestors. I can’t resist telling one of my favorites because it illustrates the open hearts of my ancestors.
Another member of Judith and Delbert’s family was Dan O’Neil. Dan was left an orphan, along with his older siblings, after diphtheria epidemic. His older sisters went with some aunts in Milwaukee and the older boys went to farms who could use them for work.
“Bert” was still a young man when he went to the O’Neil farm auction. He could see that Dan, a little frail boy of only six, seemed unwanted. Bert just took Dan home with him without asking his parents if they wanted another family member. When Delbert married Judith, Dan came along as a part of their family.
Dan later became a pharmacist in town.
I haven’t always had this appreciation of my heritage. For many years as a young person I took it for granted, and there were a few years I spent in rebellion. I also know no family is perfect, and dysfunctional families can have awful holidays that seem to bring out the worst in its members. Alcohol added to a mix of old grudges can cause new heartaches.
I have often counseled therapy clients to begin their own traditions when they don’t like the ones they inherited. It’s a good idea for everyone to take what is good from one’s family and leave the rest.
And it’s never too late to start a tradition.