Thanksgiving Letters to the Editor | Nov. 23, 2023

The Inquirer asked readers whether and why they were feeling thankful this year. Here are some of your responses.

By this time next year, we will know who will occupy the White House on Jan. 20, 2025. Will it be someone who believes in democracy, values the contributions of immigrants, respects civil rights, and supports our international allies? Will inauguration day bring with it hope and light, or a rerun of foretold American carnage? This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful it’s 2023, and that we can all gather at the dinner table and at least try to pretend that chaos is not looming around the corner.

Leslie Carol, Philadelphia

I am grateful for the gift of faith (especially during these turbulent times). I am grateful for three grandchildren (and one on the way!). I am thankful for soft pretzels. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Kathy Kaufmann, Erdenheim

. . .

For: indoor plumbing,

family, coffee, shelter,

recovery, the sun.

Kathy Mann, Philadelphia

I just read Jenice Armstrong’s column about Hamid Golshani’s search for Thanksgiving dinner. In 1969 I didn’t need to search for Thanksgiving dinner, the U.S. Army provided it for me. We gathered around in a small mess hall at Tan Ann airfield in Vietnam. The sergeants and officers served us as we went through the line. And we did have turkey. What am I thankful for in 2023? I am thankful for family and friends and being safe from bombs and mortars. Having a warm home, not worrying about where my food or water will come from. I am thankful that I could protest the Vietnam War when I got home without fear, and that football players can “take a knee.” I am thankful that I can post words of caring and hope on social media, and stay in touch with many of my friends I served with in Vietnam.

Joe Parsio, Lansdowne

Over a year ago, my husband and I made the difficult, but positive, decision to leave all that we loved and our many involvements to live close to our son’s family in Phoenixville. We are thankful for Beverly, our new next-door neighbor who quickly shared her contact information and told us to “call or text me with any questions” (which we continue to do). We’re thankful for Lyn, the complete stranger whom I met while walking, and after a brief conversation (where she learned I was new in town), invited me to her home for tea. We’re thankful for the entire Phoenixville YMCA community: workers, staff, and patrons, where everyone comes together for exercise, fun, and support in a beautiful, safe, and welcoming environment. Since our beloved old hometown of Abington is only an hour away, we can still visit loved ones and continue in one of our most honored roles: Mr. and Mrs. Claus with the McKinley Fire Co.

Patricia Conroy, Phoenixville

One of the things I am grateful for this Thanksgiving is the Lenfest Institute of Journalism’s gift to The Philadelphia Inquirer, which has enabled the newspaper to stave off a takeover from political forces and remain an independent, indispensable, and comprehensive regional source of clearly delineated news and opinion for the region.

Norma Van Dyke, Philadelphia, nvandyke121@gmail.com

I am grateful that, against great odds, our Philadelphia Inquirer staff refuse to relinquish the importance of their mission in serving our historic, brave but divided, and, in many ways, tortured city. But there is more: Although it is not overt, there is poetry in our hometown paper’s editing and design, and poetry provides enduring hope, despite all. Take, as an example, the Nov. 17 letter to the editor headlines: “Poor delivery,” “Rethink location,” “Understanding,” “Enough war,” “Bipartisan effort,” “System works.” Wow! (The wow is mine.) And there is still more: The Inquirer is widely read and respected. My recently published letter to the editor led to an op-ed for the Chicago Tribune. In accepting my submission, the editor, who also knows how necessary poetry is, offered me two poems, which I now offer you: “Try to Praise the Mutilated World” by Adam Zagajewski and “A Brief for the Defense” by Jack Gilbert.

SaraKay Smullens, Philadelphia

Considering that I am considerably past the “use by” date, I am thankful I have been lucky to have lived through some of the most glorious days of this, the greatest country in the world. My hope is that future generations of Americans ad infinitum will be able to say the same thing.

Ralph D. Bloch, Jenkintown

Three hundred years ago, in the early morning hours of Oct. 6, 1723, a 17-year-old Benjamin Franklin stepped off a boat on Market Street Wharf and looked upon Philadelphia for the first time. What he saw would amaze him for the rest of his life. In 2023, Philadelphia remains one of the most important American cities, with a lot to be thankful for.

Be thankful for our 90-year-old brotherly shoving, tush-pushing Philadelphia Eagles, who are at the pinnacle of the NFC. Complete with a quarterback who has as much talent as any in the NFL and plenty of years ahead to prove it. Meanwhile, the Phillies have the most iconic mascot in all of baseball, and a lineup ready to propel stitched leather projectiles into the South Philadelphia night sky.

Be thankful for our food. It’s hard to live off a diet of cheesesteaks, water ice, and soft pretzels. But we’ll try! Pat and Harry Olivieri’s 1930 invention not only took over Philadelphia, but the world, and Philly remains a fantastic place to have a great meal.

Be thankful for our people. Some of the hardest-working and dedicated people in the world. Sixty-seven years after his arrival, Franklin died in Philadelphia in 1790. His funeral was attended by 20,000 people at a time when Philadelphia had a population of 28,000. Mr. Franklin appreciated Philadelphia. This Thanksgiving, I do, too.

Michael Thomas Leibrandt, Abington

This year, my celebration of Thanksgiving will be a challenge. Last year at this time, my wife, Mary Kate, passed away, and the shock and trauma entrapped me and my three daughters completely. No one teaches you about what is experienced when losing a loved one; grief surrounds your every thought all day and every day. Pain, suffering, anger, despair — and the list goes on. Therefore, to ask me what I am thankful for this year focuses on one thing: my daughters.

We all are heartbroken and at times aimlessly questioning whether we did enough to care for my wife, or did we surround her with the best possible doctors, etc. The triple play of “would have, should have, could have” runs through our brains like an unexpected blast that knocks us to the ground. Emotionally spent, we come together at the end of the day and rely on each other to get tissues, wipe away tears, and embrace as we try to pick up the pieces of the puzzle that were once our family.

I am thankful for having had 35 years with my wife — working together and raising our children with laughter, smiles, and joy. I am thankful that I know without any uncertainty that we have an angel in heaven watching over and guiding us from afar. I am thankful that someday I will reunite with her, hear her voice, and see that smile that I fell in love with a long time ago. She is forever missed, and we are thankful that she was in our lives, making life better for us. Love you, MK.

Stephen T. Ferry, Philadelphia

Thanksgiving is here, and I have been thinking a lot about the holiday and what it means to me now. Mom was a great cook, and the smells that came from her kitchen surrounded us with love. When I took over the holiday, we went out to eat, but the love was just as strong as ever. It did not matter where we went or what we ate that was important — the meal was just a way to show our love. Those memories will carry me through. I am in a nursing home and just got over my fourth bout of COVID-19. The lifetime of love that was given to me by Mom and Dad was special. I am thankful for it every day of the year.

Sheryl Kalick, Philadelphia

Join the conversation: Send letters to letters@inquirer.com. Limit length to 150 words and include home address and day and evening phone number. Letters run in The Inquirer six days a week on the editorial pages and online.