Stories From Vern

       
The last of the stories Vern wrote about growing up on a farm in Missouri in the late 1940's.  

                                                             Hog Butchering

     Butchering 1 hog required about 3 days of labor.   The first day was preparatory.  Getting the 55 gallon steel barrel out, setting it on raised beams, filling it with water and securing enough  wood to get the water  scalding hot.  The second day a fire was made under the barrel and when the water was steaming hot, the hog was shot with a .22 rifle.  Then a block and tackle was used to hoist the carcass up from a tree branch.  Dad opened up the carcass and removed the insides.  Then the block and tackle was relocated over the barrel, the carcass raised and lowered into the steaming hot water.  After the carcass was scalded good, the fire was put out and the barrel moved out of the way.  Then the carcass was scraped to remove all the hair.  Its about lunch time now and we always had pork liver and onions plus vegetables, home made bread and homemade butter for lunch on butchering day.  After lunch, Dad split the pork carcass in two and it was left hanging from the tree to cool till the next morning.  On the third day, Dad cut the carcass up.  Shoulders, hams, bacon sides, pork chops, neck bones, ham hocks, and fat.  This was a hard day for Mom.  The fat she cut into 1 inch cubes and put them in a kettle on the cook stove to render out for the lard.  The lard was put into mason jars and sealed.  All of the scraps of meat and some of the pork loin was ground up for sausage.  Us kids turned the sausage grinder and Dad weighed each batch, added the proper amount of seasoning which consisted of red pepper, black pepper, sage and salt.  He blended this together and then Mom made them into patties, fried them and put them in mason jars, filled the jar with boiling lard and sealed.  The hams, bacon slabs, shoulders, ham hocks and some of the pork loin was taken to the smoke house were Dad rubbed them with a mixture of salt and brown sugar, and built a hickory wood chip fire under the meat.  Not to hot so as to cook but more for the smoke.  The smoldering fire was kept going 24 hours a day and each day Dad would rub down the meat with more of the salt and brown sugar mixture.  If I remember correctly this curing process took about 7 days.  The head and various other parts were de-boned and Mom made a gelatin meat loaf that was sour and was called 'Souse'.  Very little of the pig was not used by the Mall family.  What was not usable was taken to the back side of the farm where in a few days that was gone, eaten by the scavengers.  This rendering (pun intended) of how processing meat was done makes us more appreciative that we can go to a refrigerated cooler at the local grocer and buy a wrapped round of sausage, or a prepackaged pound of bacon.  Life is good!


 
 This was the church that we went to.  It was located in the city of Marshfield, Missouri.  Mom and Dad were as active in this church as they were at Sacred Heart in Kansas City, Kansas.  Dad helped Maintain this church.  The hope of the Parishioners, to build a new church, was supported by the Mall family.  The church had a building fund called 'God's Little Acre'.  Each year Mom and Dad donated a 2 year old calf to this fund.  Every Sunday after Mass all of the Parishioners lingered outside the church to visit.  Uncle Paul and Aunt Mamie Beeker Bader, their daughter, Frances Bader Goeden and her husband Joe, Joe Goeden's parents, Mr and Mrs Goeden were the relatives that mostly only got to see each other once a week.  In the year that we did not have automobile transportation because of the tire shortage, we did not go to church.  If we did, it was for a special occasion and by horse and wagon.  Catholic education was held in the Pastor's house on Sundays after church, and for one week during the summer.  When I married Vern, across the street from the Church lived the parents of their son-in-law, Claude Young.  So I remember walking across the street to visit with them as well.  Mr. Young was very outgoing and gregarious, Mrs Young was quiet and one of the sweetest women I ever met.  Their son, Claude, was a mixture of both.  When Mary Lorene first moved to Marshfield, one of the local boys told her that it was okay to date about anyone but to stay away from Claude Young.  Claude Young was one of my favorite people.
       There is a newer Church in town now.  Built in the 1970s.