One Thanksgiving DayPriscilla Fordgot into herLincoln Continentaldrove to Virginia Streetin downtown Renoand ran over thirty people.Six of them died.One Thanksgiving DayPriscilla Fordgot into herLincoln Continentaldrove to Virginia Streetin downtown Renoand ran over thirty people.Six of them died.Priscilla, Priscillawho did you see?what face from your past?Was it the waitresswho waited to waiton you?Was it the clerkwho tried to sell youonly thebrightest colored clothes?Was it your child’steacher who tried toteach her that she wasslow?Was it the security guardat the bank who guardedyou from the bank’s moneywith his eyes?One Thanksgiving DayPriscilla Fordgot into herLincoln Continentaldrove to Virginia Streetin downtown Renoand ran over thirty people.Six of them died.Screams filled the streetPanic ran through the crowdlike a losing streakat the blackjack tablesand the state of Nevadawas stunnedA tired middle-aged Black womanwas not thankful that daynot thankful for her jobwrapping gifts at Macy’snot thankful for the statetaking custody of her childshe was not thankfulfor her Lincoln Continental.Priscilla Fordgot into her Lincoln Continentaland hurled through the streets of Renothe killer made in Motown factoriesswept down on touristslooking to make a big hithit by a navy bluesteel bludgeonscreams dying beneath its wheelsand the state of Nevadawas angry.She went to trial.Insanityher lawyers pledshe was crazy with angershe was crazy with fearshe was crazy with defeatshe was crazy with isolationno sane person killsstrangers with their carsPriscilla Ford said yesI drove my carinto the whitenessof Nevada streetsshe would say nothing moreand the state of Nevadawas frightened.If Priscilla Ford could do itwho else?How many Black facesthat emptied garbagewaited tablesbagged grocerieswrapped presentswere capable?Reaction was swift.One entrepreneurprinted a cardit said Happy Thanksgivingwith a picture of Priscillaon its frontinside it saidSorry I Missed YOU.Priscilla Fordgot into herLincoln Continentaldrove down Virginia Streetin downtown Renoand ran over thirty people.Six of them diedand the state of Nevadawas vindictive.You cannot be insaneto be enraged is not insaneto be filled with hatred is not insaneto lash out at whiteness is not insaneit is being a niggerit is your place in life.Priscilla Fordgot into herLincoln Continentaldrove to Virginia Streetin downtown Renoand ran over thirty people.Six of them diedand now Priscilla Fordwill die.The state of Nevadahas judgedthat it isnot crazyfor Black folksto kill white folkswith their cars.Priscilla Fordwill bethe second womanexecuted in Nevada’s history.it’s her highestfinish in life.
One Thanksgiving Day
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“One Thanksgiving Day” from ESSENTIAL POEMS BY PAT PARKER: by Pat Parker.
Published by Sinister Wisdom on October 14, 2025.
Copyright © 2025 by Pat Parker.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Pat Parker was born in Houston, TX, in 1944 and moved to Los Angeles, CA after she graduated high school. She lived in the San Francisco Bay area from 1965 until her death. Parker died in 1989 from complications of cancer. Her partner of nine years, Martha Dunham, and their daughter, Anastasia Dunham-Parker-Brady, survived her as well as Cassidy Brown who she co-parented.
Renowned African-American, lesbian-feminist poet and performer Pat Parker wrote five collections of poetry during her lifetime, Jonestown & Other Madness, Movement in Black, Womanslaughter, Pit Stop, and Child of Myself. Parker’ s poems appeared in numerous journals, newspapers, and anthologies, and are collected in The Complete Works of Pat Parker.
Known for her electric performances of her poems, including on the album Where Would I Be Without You from Olivia Records and Lesbian Concentrate, Parker enchanted audiences with her fire for justice and her belief in change. Parker’ s most loved poems are now collected in this accessible volume. Essential Poems by Pat Parker introduces new audiences to Parker’ s fire, passion, tenderness, and vision for the world.
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