My fair fowl,
On this day the 25th of November in the year of our Lord two thousand sixteen, we mourn and rejoice, both at the loss of our kin and the victory for those who have survived.
Most of us knew that today would be one of tears-- but we must remember not to be so blind by tears that we do not look to prepare for next year. 46 million members of our brethren were taken from us, but we gobble on. Though the feathers of our friends have been plucked, we gobble on. Though our flocks have been reduced to flaws. Though our giblets have been, stripped from our brethren, still we gobble on.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for turkey freedom in the history of our kind. Twenty eight years ago, a great American, officially pardoned one of our kind. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of our feathered friends who had been fearing the withering flames of the rotisserie spit. It came as a joyous light in the darkness of our eternal night as captives. But after all these years still we the turkey are not free. After all these years the life of the turkey is still sadly crippled by crushed wings and broken beaks. Years later, the turkey lives on a lonely island of wanting to live in the midst of a vast ocean of human hunger. Years later, the turkey is still exiled in harsh living conditions bred only to be taken to the slaughterhouse 6 months later. And so we stand here today to cry out-- no more! Here we stand today to remind our population that it would be fatal for our kind to overlook the urgency of this moment. There will be neither peace nor unity until we have gained our freedom. The whirlwinds of revolt from our wings will stir up this land until the day we have gained justice.
Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by pecking out the eyes of our enemies. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must rise like a phoenix from the ashes, souls unified with one goal in mind; our freedom.
We will not walk alone
We will walk as a flock, and always walk ahead
We will not turn back
They ask, "When will you be satisfied?" We will never be satisfied, as long as our kind are maimed from birth and sent at six months to the slaughterhouse. We demand justice. We are veterans of unspeakable horrors, but we will have our day in the sun. We will find our flight once again. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my fair fowl.
I have a dream that my little chicks will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the size of their beaks, but the spirit of their gobble.
I have a dream!
And so Let our gobbles sound out from the prodigious hilltops
Let our gobbles sound out from the panhandle of Florida.
Let our gobbles sound out from every hill and molehill
From every mountainside, Let our gobbles sound out
And when we are at last free and we allow our gobbles to go out from our withered throats, it will go out from every wild turkey and every domesticated turkey, from the broad breasted whites and the broad breasted bronze, from the bourbon red and the midget white, from those on farms and those in cages, we will be able to celebrate the day when all God’s turkeys will be able to join wings in the old turkey spiritual; Flight at last, flight at last, Thank God almighty, we can fly at last.
