Rebecca Vizard outside her St. Joseph store on Feb. 26, 2024.
BY FAIMON A. ROBERTS III | Staff writer Rebecca Vizard (second from left) and members of her family celebrate Thanksgiving. Provided photo Facebook Twitter WhatsApp SMS Email Print Copy article link Save Growing up in rural Tensas Parish, my paternal grandparents lived nearby.
Any and all special occasions revolved around their home. I had a particularly close bond with my grandmother, and we would set the table, do the flowers and hang out in the kitchen. I had three boy cousins who were like brothers to me.
I remember the beginning of deer season coinciding with Thanksgiving and their excitement about hunting with their dad. I personally felt sick every time I saw the undignified look of a dead deer, slack-tongued in the back of a truck. I didn’t like the idea of killing beautiful animals, and quite often I would cry.
One day when I could barely see over the dashboard, I rode with my El Camino-cruising grandfather to deliver venison to some people in our community. After asking why he was doing this, it became apparent to me just how fortunate we were. I think that is the beginning of my journey with gratitude, and the concept of sharing the bounty.
It also gave me a new perspective when I realized some families would not eat meat for the year were it not for hunting. Thanksgiving really blossomed for me as an only child when I first started dating my husband, the fourth of six New Orleans siblings. They always.
