Charley’s Kilt

If we look back over the years at photos of our Matheson family Thanksgiving celebration, there are kilted men in all the photos, beginning in 1958. People always ask why the men began wearing a kilt at Thanksgiving. It all started during the summer when Charley turned 17 and went on a school trip to Europe. His professor, Mr. Ben Harnley, took Charley and several other boys from Episcopal High School on an educational journey that covered much of Europe and even took them to Russia. That was very daring in 1958 because this “Iron Curtain” country was just beginning to open up to tourists.

While he was on that trip, Charley ordered a Matheson Plaid kilt. This takes months to complete. He ordered it sent to him at his home in Alexandria, Virginia.

When I met Charley for the first time, in September of that same year, he had turned 17. I was 16 and at my teenage best. It was love from the first minute I saw him.  And it was mutual! So, from then on, we saw each other as often as possible. One day, when I was at his house, a package arrived from Scotland. It contained the kilt of “Matheson dress plaid” he had ordered that summer. This is a bright tartan, which has a red background, and it is very festive.

Charley said, “I’m gonna wear this at Thanksgiving.” What a wild idea. No one we knew wore a kilt. Charley needed the proper accessories to make it look right. There was a shop in Alexandria that sold Scottish things. Charley could buy the correct socks and garters, as well as a dirk and a sporran to pull the entire outfit together.

So, when Thanksgiving arrived, Charley was wearing his Matheson Plaid kilt with a green and grey tweed jacket. He looked spectacular. He had on knee socks and loafers and a sporran (the traditional male Scottish Highland kilt purse). Everybody thought he looked splendid.

So Malcolm, his older brother, thought he, too, would like to have a kilt. 

And he immediately ordered one in “hunting plaid,” a green-and-blue Matheson tartan. By the next Thanksgiving, Malcolm had his kilt. And then, by the following Thanksgiving, I was married to Charley, and my family was invited to the Mathesons’ home for Thanksgiving.

My brother, Wiley Buchanan, had a Buchanan Plaid kilt made for himself. 

John Matheson, the youngest brother, was next to get his own kilt. By that time, we had three Matheson men and my brother all “kilted” at Thanksgiving. Then, the Matheson brothers decided to buy a kilt for their father, big Malcolm. Once he had his kilt, his wife, Big Pink, began wearing a long Matheson Plaid skirt, a white ruffled blouse, and a dark hunter-green velvet jacket.

By then, Lida Matheson had fallen in love with Rick Stifel, who also was soon kilted. We were putting kilts on our young sons, as well.  It became a very Scottish-looking Thanksgiving. Everybody who was randomly invited or those who saw our photos wondered how we all happened to have all those kilts.

It all started because Charley had the foresight and good taste to order the kilt in the first place on that trip to Europe. He and Malcolm quickly learned how the rest of the outfit should be worn. They soon had all the proper “kit,” including a dirk to put in their high-knee socks, with little ribbon garters at the tops. Malcolm had a stuffed badger’s head on his sporran and enjoyed teasing the girls. I don’t think Charley ever had an animal, but several decorated leather and fur sporrans were acquired.  They had a lot of fun with their Scottish heritage.  Sometimes, they hired a Scottish bagpiper or two, to pipe us in to the party. 

Everybody wore their family plaid, even if it was only a tie or a scarf. The ladies all had scarves of varying lengths, often worn with a large round Scottish broach of silver. My father had a pair of Buchanan plaid trousers. Thanksgiving was very festive down on the river at Ferry Point. The beautiful November days were the perfect temperature.  Most of those Thanksgivings had terrific weather except for ONE which only affected us in Fauquier County.

In 1971, we got trapped at home in The Plains, VA, due to a freak snowstorm. We had two feet of snow. This snow, which fell unexpectedly on the day before Thanksgiving, trapped hundreds of drivers who left Washington DC in a rainstorm and suddenly found themselves in a blizzard if they were headed west on Rt # 55. They were driving in the rain, but the temperature dropped below freezing as soon as they arrived at Thoroughfare Gap. The heavy rain became driving snow. The deep snow stranded cars for miles. That was a shock as we had no warning. We were lucky that Charley and I could be together at home with our children. Many of our friends were not so fortunate. Our electricity stayed on, so we cooked a turkey and had a small celebration. I was planning to cook that bird for leftovers after returning from Ferry Point.

That year, we missed the fun of seeing and being with all the cousins. We spoke to Charley’s father on the phone and told him we were “stuck.” He said, “Well, the children are playing outside with just sweaters on right now.” I think he did not believe us, at first. Later that day, my parents-in-law saw news reports about the freak storm, so we were vindicated. That storm was very localized, and the news did not report it beforehand. No cell phones in those days, you sometimes got slammed. There was no mention of it on the news, people were already thoroughly committed to driving straight into it. Two feet is a lot of snow.  We simply could not come because we could not get out of our driveway.

We rarely had rain or temperatures too cold to go outside at Ferry Point Thanksgivings. The guests would have drinks out on the terrace. We looked out across the expanse of lawn sloping gently to the river. The calm Potomac River was very wide at that point.  We had a great view of the Maryland coastline, and we watched boats go by in the distance. We chatted and while we kept an eye on the little children, who were all dressed up, but playing happily. They played tag, bounced on the bouncing board and played on the swing or in the hammock. The backyard was several acres of lawn with some trees here and there, bordered with trees on the two sides and by the river at the far end. A flagpole in the center of the lawn flew an American flag, proudly waving. After making merry with our drinks, we went into the house for lunch.  

The bountiful feast was set out buffet- style in the game room, on the pool table. It was covered with a piece of plywood draped in a tablecloth. The caterers carved the meat and helped us get our meals. There usually was a whole young pig with an apple in its mouth. There were two turkeys and many side dishes–mashed potatoes and gravy, and a large amount of stuffing inside the turkeys and some in a big bowl. Malcolm’s wife, Gail Matheson always brought scalloped oysters baked in a dish at her home. The youngest daughter, Lida Stifel brought a marvelous pumpkin soup. We all got small white cups of this, either just before or along with our plates full of food. Everything was garnished and decorated with fruit and flowers and lots of parsley. We brought cole slaw because we came all the way from The Plains and had the most children. We got off lightly. Two of my sisters-in-law, Torrey Cook and Pedie Matheson, had birthdays at Thanksgiving, which were celebrated with individual Birthday cakes. We always sang an old Scottish song, “A Wee Deoch an Doris.” We all learned most of the words, which seemed to bring us together with great emotion. Uncle Malcolm traditionally led the singing. Everyone joined in with enthusiasm.

It was too bad to miss even one of these celebrations because they were

extraordinary. The number of dishes, the plentiful help clearing up used dishes or glasses, and passing drinks or hors d’oeuvres. There were different bowls of dressing, gravy, salad, and vegetables. Then there were the rolls. In those days, meals always included bread of some kind. There were jams and jellies and pickles and olives and celery. We see very few of these as offerings at a buffet today. Sometimes, there was poached salmon or perhaps, smoked salmon. They decorated the table with flowers and magnolia leaves, china figures, and sugared fruit in silver dishes piled high on stems of twined silver flowers. After eating all that food, the young ones would go back outside and play games. They played touch football. The sun would be setting and the light dimming, but the kids still ran around in their kilts and knee socks. Finally, the parents would entice their children to leave the fun and go home again.

As Family gatherings go, these were amazingly friendly, funfilled, sociable, and tension-free.  I was happy to be a part of it. My in-laws continued that tradition at their home, Ferry Point, on the Potomac River, until they died in 2007. They died within a week of each other. Malcolm and Pinkie Matheson left a splendid legacy.  I’m glad I experienced those gatherings for so many decades. Time has passed and I have been fortunate enough to continue the Thanksgiving gatherings at my house as recently as this year. And I pray for many more.

Copyright©. 2024 Bonnie B. Matheson