My ancestor saved Thanksgiving

A Democrat candidate for governor of Wisconsin wants to cancel Thanksgiving over colonialism—aka civilizing a savage continent. The anti-white fervor on college campuses has spread throughout the Democrat Party and the halls of government.

She wants to replace it with a 6-course celebration on menstruation.

Sadly, she lost the primary—blowing a 20-point lead like she was married to Bill Clinton. This means Republicans will actually have to work to win in November.

What she mocks, however, is praising and thanking the Lord for the miracle of braving an ocean to come to a new land where people could praise the Lord in their own way without direction from the pope or the king.

The Pilgrims aboard the Mayflower almost did not make it. They left in August in another ship but after a month, the boat began leaking. They had to turn back to England and then boarding another cramped cargo boat and heading back across the storm-tossed sea—only to run into another problem that should have turned them around again.

History With Jacob tweeted:

Halfway across the Atlantic, a main beam on the Mayflower bowed and cracked.

That beam was structural. If it let go, the ship was finished. And everyone aboard with it.

The Pilgrims asked the question nobody wants to ask mid-ocean: should we turn back?

The hull below the waterline was still sound. The problem was the beam, and there was no shipyard within two thousand miles.

Then somebody remembered the cargo. The passengers had brought a great iron screw out of Holland, heavy equipment meant for the life they intended to build on the other side. They hauled it up, set it under the buckled beam, and cranked the beam back into place.

The carpenter drove a post underneath, set it firm into the lower deck, lashed it fast, and said it would hold.

It held.

They made Cape Cod in November.

Sadly the summer season was over by the time they landed and no one could wear white shoes. This explains their footwear.

Now the Pilgrims needed the Lord’s guidance because they were not endowed with any lick of sense. They wound up in Massachusetts instead of Virginia. They should have listened to Bugs Bunny and made that right in Albuquerque.

They finally left the ship in December—the dead of winter.

But not far from Plymouth’s Rock, they noticed an abandoned village. What luck! They moved in—women and children first while the men stoically stayed aboard the Mayflower. None of the Pilgrims asked why Indians abandoned the village. The fresh graves nearby should have been a clue.

The abandoned village was a deathtrap. It killed the Indians. Half the Pilgrims died like nursing home residents after Cuomo sent in covid patients. The undisclosed disease had a death rate that Tony Fauci would envy.

Getting to Plymouth’s Rock was an accomplishment. The man who saved the ship with one screw deserves to be remembered and honored today.

I asked Grok about the carpenter. Grok replied, “The name of the ship’s carpenter aboard the Mayflower is not definitively known from historical records; it is generally listed as unknown.”

Ah, but there are theories.

Grok said, “Some later historians have speculated it was Francis Eaton, a passenger (with his wife Sarah and infant son Samuel) who was a house carpenter by trade from Bristol, England (baptized 1596; died in Plymouth in 1633). Charles Edward Banks suggested Eaton may have been employed by the Merchant Adventurers in that capacity. Eaton signed the Mayflower Compact, survived the first winter (his first wife did not), remarried twice, and worked as a carpenter in the colony.”

My paternal grandmother was a descendant of Eaton. So my family has been screwing Americans for 400 years.

I should enter politics.