It was the night before Thansgiving.

This is from another forum I used to post on a lot more than I do these days. I recently wrote about it on another forum and decided to try and dig up the original post. Presented here, warts and all


It was Thanksgiving Eve, 1980.
I left Rochester, NY, with two of my fraternity brothers, armed with a thirty pack of Strohs,for the seven hour drive to Long Island. It was my senior year, and this time next year I anticipated being stationed in Korea as a newly commisioned Army Officer.
I got home just after dinner and after a quick bite and some time with my Mom was planning on hitting our local drinking establishment for what was then the busiest nite of the year when I was sucker-punched by the news that I had to drive into the city to drop off some turkeys for the poor at my Aunts convent on the upper West Side. It seems some salesman dropped off a turkey for each of the employees at our family business and we had about eight more than we needed.
No amount of pleading worked so there I was, driving in to NYC with a car loaded with turkeys while my friends were partying as only drunken college kids can do.
All the way in, I'm thinking get there by eight, out the door by eight-fifteen, I'm in McHebes by nine-thirty, ten at the latest.
Allow me to digress a moment and tell you something about my Aunt. My Dad left home in 1943 to join the Marines and never really went back. Not even for his Fathers funeral. She was my fathers sister and a bit flighty. In sixth grade, I recieved a German Shepard puppy for my confirmation and about three months later, she showed up and asked me if I would donate the dog to a poor family in her area that couldn't afford one. A year later, she suggested I give the dog up to be trained as a seeing eye dog. Needless to say, she wasn't all that high on my list of favorite Aunts.
So, I get to the Convent a few minutes behind schedule, and the novice who answers the door invites me in and tells me my Aunt is busy with someone but she'll be finished in a few minutes. I gave serious thought to just leaving the turkeys and going, but she was family and I was raised better than that.
About ten minutes goes by and she comes in. Everytime I've seen her since I was about twelve, she tells me I'm the spitting image of my now dead father and this is no exception. She asks about my mom and sisters and then tells me there is someone she wants me to meet. She says that there is couple in the next room and their son Sean just celebrated a birthday and had a huge party. It seems he was only allowed to keep three toys and the rest were being donated to the poor, which was why they were here. I walk into the room and see a chubby little boy with bangs, an older asian woman and John Lennon.
Holy mess, I think to myself- it's John Freaking Lennon!
To make an already long story a bit shorter, I spent the next three hours talking to Yoko Ono while John and Sean played together on the floor between us. I learned that she and my Aunt were friends since the early anti-war movement days, that my Aunt was featured in a Time article on the changing role of nuns in America and was shocked to know that Yoko knew I had been born in Japan, had a father that was career Army, and had just recently passed away. John himself didn't say much, but I was shocked how he kept referring to his wife as "Mother". Eventually, Sean got real tired and they decided it was time to go. I offered them a ride but John said they loved to walk in NYC and it was only a few blocks. We shook hands, Yoko kissed me on the cheek and they left. As they were walking down the steps, John turned, re-positioned his sleeping son, flashed us a peace sign and smiled.
Two weeks later he was dead. Shot on the streets he loved to walk.
Edited November 23, 2010 by shadroch

That is a truly great story. Thanks for bringing it over here.