Gathering for thanks at a ‘friendsgiving’ dinner

It seems only a week or two ago, we sweltered through a punishing heat wave that soared to 112 record degrees, but now it is cool and positively autumnal, ushering in the week of Thanksgiving.

In recent years, the “friendsgiving dinner” has emerged as something in sync with the spirit of Thanksgiving.

Friendsgiving invites extended family and friends to sit down before the holiday. It was like that the other evening at a friend’s home, when she opened her doors to a broad swath of the Antelope Valley’s veteran community — and you could feel the wave of warmth in the room.

Two generous-hearted women of our Valley, Megan Hilzendeger and Sandra Woolbert, teamed as the hosts.

They lost their best friends in the world within the short space of a year or so. Their husbands, Tom Hilzendeger and Jack Woolbert were, respectively, the first and second presidents of the local veterans’ service nonprofit, Vets4Veterans. The men were best friends who left this world in rapid succession.

Both men, Vietnam War veterans, and their wives, put heart and soul into the work. They saw their mission as helping veterans to not go hungry, or without shelter, to have access to mental health services and to advance their education and job skills after service.

Many vet organizations make contributions to this kind of work. This group, operating at the community grassroots scale, has a sustained and successful effort over a dozen years.

Losing Tom and Jack was hard, not only on their spouses and families, but also the extended family who volunteer for veterans. If you want solid organizational support for any giving activity, find the smart women willing to do the heavy lifting and leave their egos at the door.

So, the doors swung wide and the potluck dishes spread out on the tables and counters. Men and women of service compared notes about where they served, where the rounds were incoming and what the service nicknames were. Many of those got a laugh.

“They couldn’t pronounce my name, so I became ‘Potato,’” former Army NCO Earle Potot said.

Benjamin Berke, another veteran sergeant said he got the good places in the good years.

“Fallujah, and Kandahar,” he said. “Great places.”

Great places for mortar strikes and rocket-propelled grenade hits lobbed by insurgents, but yes.

Dozens of friends gathered and the table was set. One thing to be grateful for was the simple availability of the opportunity to be together with a diminished level of contagion, and fear of same, following two years of a pandemic that left death, bitterness and division in its wake.

Inflation notwithstanding, the mashed potatoes were creamy, the green beans crunchy, the meat well sauced, the desserts overflowing and the alcohol, moderate.

The biggest serving on the table was an abundance of gratitude. Gratitude in the face of loss, grief and mourning. Friendsgiving was friends, giving of themselves.

The volunteer friends dined with gratitude for what they had been able to give. One thing in particular involved all the hearts and hands over the last couple of years, a monthly grocery distribution, finding the people in their community of service who live in real need.

One of the organization’s Board members, Army combat veteran John Parsamyan, raised his glass in a toast.

“Here is a toast, to Megan and Sandra, for bringing us all into your home and hearts,” he said. “And a toast to Tom and Jack and all the work they did and pointed the way for us to do.”

Here’s a toast to friendsgiving dinners and gathering, wherever they are, pointing the way to be grateful for what we have and what we may yet do.

Dennis Anderson is a licensed clinical social worker at High Desert Medical Group. An Army paratrooper veteran, he embedded with local National Guard troops to cover the Iraq war for the Antelope Valley Press. He works on veterans’ issues and community health initiatives.