Another Perspective: Reflections on Thanksgiving Eve on the UWS 2020

By Lisa Kava

I have been lucky enough to live right in the center of the excitement, or mayhem, of Thanksgiving festivities on the Upper West Side for 20 years. But there will be no Thanksgiving balloon inflation and no Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in my neighborhood this year. Another event canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which constantly hovers over our lives. The parade will be in front of Macy’s this year and virtual for spectators. And I have been trying to figure out how I feel about it all.

When my college-aged children were young, we eagerly anticipated the annual balloon inflation event which occurred on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. My son and daughter watched wide eyed as the enormous balloons came to life. It felt celebratory and thrilling, all of this right in our backyard. It was also a precursor to our extended family Thanksgiving celebration the next day.

The marching bands would begin to rehearse in the deepest hours of the night leading up to Thanksgiving. My family would be awakened by loud music beginning sometime around 3 a.m. and continuing until dawn. Outside of our window, Central Park West was aglow with bright lights.

On Thanksgiving morning, the floats would line up in the street directly in front of our building. Many years ago, when there were no street barricades, my children would jump onto the floats as they waited for the parade to start.

Then slowly, the event grew larger and the crowds became overwhelming. The balloon inflation event seemed to start earlier each year and our residential neighborhood began to feel like a zoo, at least to me. In recent years, the crowds grew so large that many blocks were closed off and it seemed impossible to navigate the sidewalk in front of my building. I could barely emerge from my lobby to walk my dog on those Wednesday afternoons and evenings without walking directly into an enormous crowd.

My son and daughter, now young adults, were unfazed by these changes. I on the other hand often felt like The Grinch. I told my husband we should leave the city for this holiday in order to avoid the crowds and get some sleep. But I didn’t really mean it. There was something special, something indescribable about it all. I wanted to be away from my neighborhood, but at the same time I simply could not imagine being anywhere else in the world.

Shortly after 9 a.m., when the parade started and the floats moved south, a sense of calm took over Central Park West in the 80’s. It was a stark contrast to what was going on just moments before. I would breathe a sigh of relief as the crowds dissipated. The street was suddenly strangely empty, lined with confetti and the occasional balloon stuck high in a tree.

This year, Thanksgiving on the Upper West Side will not exist in the form it has in years past. Add it to the long list of what has been lost over the past nine months. I waver between relief and sadness. I will be able to walk in my neighborhood free of crowds. But I don’t see how it can feel like Thanksgiving.

These are strange times. I try my best to focus on what has been gained rather than what has been lost. I appreciate the Upper West Side now more than ever; a walk in Central Park with friends and dogs on a gorgeous fall day when yellow leaves are set against the bright blue sky like a painting, the liveliness of Columbus Avenue, the shops and restaurants that have not closed. I am grateful for each day that my son and daughter have been able to spend on their college campuses. I am thankful that my family has remained healthy throughout this ordeal.

I wonder if next year at this time I will have a new appreciation for what I hope will be the return of chaos to my neighborhood on Thanksgiving Eve. I am pretty sure I will miss it terribly tonight.