I was born a Canadian, and the trappings of Thanksgiving in Canada are very similar to what we'd be familiar with at the end of November. This made sense to me growing up, because the buckle-shoes-and-blunderbuss inheritance was every bit as much ours in Canada: like many old-settler-stock Canadians, I'm a Mayflower descendant. While that affair in the 1860s which gave us the last Thursday in November among many other things is called the Civil War--a bit of ideological sleight-of-hand, really, begging the question of whether the United States was one country, or society to begin with--the American Revolution was a real Civil War, from the St. Lawrence to the Okefenokee. My father's family, Massachusetts-born settlers in New Brunswick, ended up on the other side of the border. Parts of my mother's family were already living in the Yarmouth area at the Southern end of Nova Scotia, which for a few months in the 1780s was home to thousands of escaped slaves, whose protection the British did not surrender at Yorktown, before they were resettled in Freetown, which became Sierra Leone.
So the general New England culture from which our style of Thanksgiving descends was split between two countries. Roast Turkey, using a potato-based stuffing whose most prominent spice was summer savory. Rutabaga, boiled with sugar and mashed, which we always called "turnips." (The true turnip was very seldom seen). Cranberry sauce, not the jelly which comes in cans, itself so distinct that we often had it in addition to the homemade, which was a mash boiled, again, with plenty of sugar. Pies: raisin, mincemeat, pumpkin; the first two usually with a basket-weave top, like cherry pies often have, the last without top, of course.
This actually was a general-purpose holiday meal, also eaten at Christmas and Easter in our house. Breadstuffs were the only seasonal elements, a raison bread and homemade fruitcake at Christmas.