FLOOD SWEPT AWAY A LITTLE PIECE OF EVERYONE.(LIFE & LEISURE)

Byline: MICHELLE SOLOMON Executive arts editor

My grandmother always set a pristine table. The tablecloth was a fine, ivory lace that she took from atop the linen closet each year a few days before Thanksgiving and pressed it, just so. She'd lay it on the long, oak table that engulfed her dining room.

She was a collector of fine china, too, and this would also be carefully removed from the buttery-soft wooden glass showcase (it matched the oak dining table) that kept it safe all year long. I remember the china had pink petals all around the brim of each plate. There were matching smaller plates, cups, saucers and a gravy boat.

This Thanksgiving, …