A Thanksgiving Story

I am thinking back to this day exactly 40 years ago. I was living by myself in Charleston, WV after having moved there for my first job out of college the previous June. The radio sales job had not worked out, and I was let go three weeks earlier.

I had interviewed for a job as a cameraman at the local TV station the previous Friday at WCHS-TV. I thought the interview had gone well, and the production manager, Bob, said he would make a decision before Thanksgiving.

Meanwhile, being fresh out of college and unemployed, I had little money. December rent was going to be due the following week, and I was not going to be able to pay it. I had planned on asking my parents for it when I drove home for Thanksgiving, but without a job, what was the use in staying?

I had decided that Thanksgiving was my deadline to get a job in Charleston. If I did not get one, I would cut my losses and move back home in Ohio. I would be the embarrassed and ashamed prodigal son at Thanksgiving, but I would need my brothers and my grandfather’s pickup truck to go back one last time and get my stuff.

I had been put in touch with Bob by meeting the local sales manager at church ten days earlier. He suggested I drop off a resume and fill out an application, and he would “put in a good word.” In the interview, Bob told me “I don’t usually listen to the sales manager when he suggests people, but you had a good background for a college kid (I had worked at odd commercial radio stations either on weekends or during summers), so I figured I’d give you a shot.”

Now here it was. The day before Thanksgiving. I was supposed to get a call today. If I did not, I would probably get a rejection letter over the weekend.

To get back to the family celebration south of Chillicothe, OH in time for dinner around 6:30, I had to leave at 3:30.  My deadline to announce my failure to the family was just hours away.

My studio apartment in Charleston was in the old “capitol district.” The West Virginia State Capitol was originally located downtown, but in 1921 it was destroyed by fire. The new complex was built 2 miles upriver from downtown. My apartment was in a converted mansion between downtown and the new capitol. It was a great place to take walks, and I was near the “long block” of Virginia Street. It was so nicknamed because it was considered to be “the longest city block in the world.” It was 1.2 miles long without any cross streets. 

I loved that area. It was a cool place to live. Lots of large colonial homes. I was not looking forward to leaving. So, there I sat, waiting for the call. Cold cereal and milk for breakfast. I watched “the Price is Right.” A can of “Chunky Soup” and a bologna, lettuce, and cheese sandwich for lunch. Never liked soap operas, so there was nothing to do, but pack my clothes for the trip home … and wait. 

There was no such thing as voice mail. I did not have an answering machine because that was a luxury I could not afford. No e-mail. The only way I knew not to miss the call, was to wait patiently by the phone.

As the time went past 2:00 my anticipation and my hope were starting to fade. At 3:00 I contemplated leaving early. It was the day before Thanksgiving. Bob had probably gone home… “No,” I thought to myself, “I will wait until 3:30.”

3:30 came … and went. Dejected, I finished packing my bag, and headed toward the door. 

It was my Luke 15:18 moment. All the anticipation of four years in college. All the preparation for my chosen career. All the success I thought I would achieve… was gone. It was time to arise and go home. I would get a job at the paper mill and live with my grandparents until I could get myself back on my feet.

Maybe I could manage a Wendy’s like another RTV major I knew did when I ran into him in Gallipolis. He never even tried.

Not that it was going to be a bad life. It just was not going to be MY life. I would be destined to always look back and think, “What if?”

I took out my keys, grabbed my bag and walked toward the door. I made one last glance at my apartment…

…And that was when the phone rang.  “Evan, It’s Bob. I’m thinking you should start next Monday.” We briefly discussed some particulars, and then he said, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Oh, he had no idea how beautiful that greeting was at that moment. I am still thankful for that day, and especially the way it transpired.

Just when you might think you have nothing; you realize have everything you need. Be thankful for that today, tomorrow, and always.