Jill's Journal: ‘ ... I thought turkey’s could fly’
As we inch closer to Thanksgiving, here’s a story that is sure to tickle your funny bone, or should I say, tickle your “wish bone.”
“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.”
That quote stems from one of the most hilarious – and memorable – Thanksgiving-themed television sitcom episodes I’ve seen in my six decades of life.
The iconic quote was a line in the Oct. 30, 1978 WKRP in Cincinnati’s episode, “Turkey’s Away,” and was delivered by newsman Les Nessman (actor Richard Sanders) as he reported live on the air. He describes the scene echoing the famous 1937 report of the Hindenberg disaster.
“Oh! They’re plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked car! The turkeys are hitting the ground like bags of wet cement!”
The turkey drop was the idea of Arthur “Big Guy” Carlson (actor Gordon Jump) to bring notoriety to the fictitious radio station he managed. The idea: Drop live turkeys from a helicopter into a crowd waiting below.
And as one may expect, that’s when all hilarity ensues.
While the blog Classic TV History reports the WKRP turkey drop was based on an actual promotion for an Atlanta station, the difference was that the live turkeys were tossed from the back of a truck and not from a helicopter.
Some say a similar event in good ol’ Gettysburg, S.D., may have offered a bit of inspiration to the episode’s writers.
I learned about the possibility during a South Dakota NewsMedia Association Board meeting in Chamberlain last week. One of my fellow board members – or should I say, Board President Molly McRoberts – shared a copy of her newspaper’s (Potter County News) March 23, 2023, report on the 50th anniversary of Gettysburg’s Turkey Drop, The historic event took place there on March 24, 1973.
“The legend has been shared through news stories magazines, and even a parody on a popular television sitcom over the past five decades,” Molly wrote.
The story leading up to the great “Gettysburg Turkey Drop” was one of excitement about the event. One line reads, “The turkeys will be claimed by whoever catches them first.”
As one may anticipate, the Gettysburg turkey drop didn’t go any better than the fictitious turkey drop did in the WKRP in Cincinnati episode.
In his Potter County News column, “Larsony,” writer Jerry Larson hoped there wouldn’t be an avalanche of letters to the editor following the event.
“It was very unfortunate, but completely unforeseen as to what would happen,” he wrote. “ … it seemed it would be a great sport – that is, until the first turkey left the airplane. Right then I knew it would be a bad day. And it was. Thankfully, no one got injured, because the ingredients were all there.”
“At 75 miles or so an hour, before the first turkey could get oriented he had already hit ground. No flying, no gliding, just thud …”
“The plane went higher for the remaining ones. Whoever said the turkeys would glide was right. Like a projectile they came down – legs back and head stretched out – they became living battering rams. Man, if anyone had tried to catch one of them he’d have been a ‘dead duck.’”
As it turned out, two of the six turkeys fell on a roof, others glided over Main Street or came straight down, short of Main Street. No windows were shattered or lives los in the process.
One particular letter to the editor did surface, however. The writer informs that “turkeys don’t fly very well, and never more than a few feet off the ground. So, when the earnest young men pushed six of them from a light plane 2,000 feet above Main Street, the birds knew they were doomed. They accepted their fate with great dignity. They folded their wings and dropped straight into the crowd below like six huge black rocks. One hit the top of the bank where it will doubtless remain until the directors see a way to profit by its removal. The other five hit the street with enormous splats at intervals along the length of the street. Fortunately, not one lovable farmer was hit because being hit by a 40-pound tom at terminal velocity would be fatal to man and bird.
“… One tight-skinned matron was standing a few feet from where the second bird landed, and her southwest exposure was instantly and generously covered with blood and fowl guts, and two fronds of entrails festooned her hat. She was better able to contain her glee than I.
“In fact, I thought this fitting climax to the day. So did the town cats who are still having their Easter dinner I have suggested to the Junior Chamber that next year they provide us with an Easter dinner of ham. After all, hogs fly about as well as turkeys.”
This Thanksgiving, let us all be thankfully safe that “turkeys don’t fly.” Most times, they come from the grocery store.
