This year, the editor said, “Write our Thanksgiving Day editorial, would you please?”
The assignment felt like a thousand-pound weight. It’s been a long year, especially if you live in Galveston, Texas.
Many face the end of 2009 thinking, “Good riddance,” but still plagued by the notion that 2010 may be one more year of struggle.
Galveston County, like the rest of America, struggled through difficult economic times during 2009.
Businesses closed and cut back. Financial security many once took for granted vanished.
In the city of Galveston, especially, recovering from Hurricane Ike in September 2008, citizens faced economic uncertainty and suffered psychic blow upon blow.
Homes stood abandoned. Century-old live oak trees died and were carved up for firewood.
But in the days that followed the unwelcome editorial assignment — days filled with the beginnings of winter, rain, mindless arguing and worry about money, and the slow unfurling of Christmas decorations — two thoughts kept tickling like barely heard notes played in the background of a symphony.
Thought No. 1: Even in the worst of moments, if one is alert, there are many small things for which we all should be grateful.
Thought No. 2: Even in the worst of times, especially in the worst of times, there is one inexpressibly big thing to be thankful for.
Among the many things we can actually be thankful for, there are these:
We can be thankful certainly for our families, our friends, our jobs, if we have them.
In 2009, weather at its worst was a minor annoyance.
Our county made it through the year with no hurricanes, no evacuations, not even a serious tropical storm.
For many Americans, this would be no cause for celebration. Here, by God, we offer a prayer of thanks.
The tourism industry was down this year, but its infrastructure remains intact.
The University of Texas Medical Branch is not what it was, but it’s open again and, if you have a heart attack today, you won’t have to risk an hour’s trip to Houston.
While the southern end of Galveston County faces what must be called an economic depression, its northern end is growing so rapidly that traffic and schools cannot keep pace.
All of us, if we think a little, can make our own gratitude list.
And, for each individual and each community, the inexpressibly big thing on each list is a simple four-letter word, the most powerful word in any language — Hope.
It lives even now as the country and our county are locked in painful arguments and gripped by more than a little fear of the future.
Last Saturday, the city of Galveston and a coalition of private citizens camped out on a parking lot behind city hall and gave away 2,000 trees.
We drove by the lot twice and saw hundreds of people — young, old, black, white and Hispanic — eagerly, joyfully accepting this gift of new life.
Their faces were filled with hope, not despair, and each tree seemed a promise.
Life goes on. Hope and the human heart can rebuild what tides and wind destroy.
Only blocks from that parking lot stand hundreds of vacant homes. They were shameful before Ike, and today they are vacant, rotting into the ground.
But even there we saw a woman smiling on her porch and chatting with a neighbor. Kids played ball.
In Galveston’s worst neighborhoods, the community has a chance to rebuild better, smarter and more compassionate neighborhoods.
So, yes, there’s a divisive argument going on over plans to rebuild by Galveston Housing Authority.
But, even in those arguments, the passion rises from people on both sides who dream of better things to come. Hope is at the heart even of the arguing.
Hope, magical and invisible and more powerful than hate, is the thing for which we should all be grateful today.
And it is the thing we must never, ever surrender.
Dolph Tillotson is president and publisher of The Daily News.
