A Thanksgiving story about a turkey named Tom

In honor of Thanksgiving I would like to tell you about my favorite turkey of all time. His name was Tom, which is a good name for a turkey. He lived in Douglas, Wyoming with the Jim and Bobbi Herrick family. I met Tom many years ago. He was the friendliest turkey I had ever met. Truth be told he was the only turkey I ever met except on a plate. Tom was a pet: his owners vowed to never eat him.

Tom loved children. Many mornings he would follow them down Smylie Road to wait with them for the school bus. The driver would always leave Tom behind because turkeys are not allowed in classrooms. So Tom would return home in a fowl mood. Tom was also a champion belcher. He could burp better than any guy at any bar.

I wrote a short article about Tom. He became pretty famous. He got fan mail. One day, about a week before Thanksgiving, my phone rang. It was a producer at the Tonight Show. "We would like to have Tom burp on our show on Thanksgiving," she said. I said that sounded like an excellent idea. So I called the Herricks to see if they were interested.

Jim answered. "Oh, Tom can't do that," he said. "He was killed a few weeks ago. He was following the kids to the bus stop and someone went out of his way to hit him." Jim sounded sad and I think was sadder when he learned that the accident had cost him a free trip to Hollywood.

Anyway, that's my story about Tom. He was an entertaining bird who loved childen and aspired for an education. I will never forget him. I will think of Tom on Thursday as I eat one of his cousins.