Community Butchering All But Gone
As I start this month’s story I cannot believe we are in a new year. The time just flies. As you know January is my least favorite month, short cold days, but at least the days are getting longer. Last month I reflected back on the 2025 stories. I also shared a new jingle; It was there on the table awaiting Santa’s call is a huge bowl of …. JELLO a fine treat for all! That was a hard one. Now this month is “The best part of ………what could it be?
In November I shared a Berma Shave Cream ad. These were road signs, and I will share a few more; “The wolf is shaved so neat and trim, Red Riding Hood is chasing him,” imagine that. Another, “It’s best for one who hits the bottle to let another use the throttle,” good advice. Broken Romance stated fully “She went wild when he went wooly. His style was smooth. His chin was not He’s the guy the girls forgot.” Now this original Berma Shave sign is available for purchase if interested, for the bargain price of $3400.00 or best offer. And lastly, something to think about, “Angels that guard you when you drive usually retire at age 65”, Bermas Shave. OK, that’s good to know.
This month I want to write about something that is almost a thing of the past, and that is butchering. When I was a little boy, this was at the very least an annual event. My granddaddy Blaine Carr like many Fulks Run families raised their own hogs and even sold them to neighbors. They would pick a Saturday, and it would become butchering day. Now this was a big job, and the items needed were hog hanging poles, kettles, lard press, sawhorses with thick boards cut from a local sawmill to make worktables, sausage grinder, scalding trough and sharp knives. Now these needed supplies were not all owned by one person and the neighbors would all come together on this appointed day to butcher. It was not uncommon to butcher six or more hogs on butchering day. In our community there were “specialist” that was called upon to be there because of their expertise in butchering. Locally names that have almost been forgotten were Orie Mumbert, Ben Hottinger, Jay Trumbo, Floyd Fulk, M.C. Clay Hinkle, in the Bergton, Criders area John Brady, Raleigh Mook, Roy Delawder, Howard Mongold, Jesse Dove, and Luther Crider to name a few. There is a story of a man in Hopkins Gap that was the designated shooter. The shooter would line up to where the hog was looking directly at them. It was then that a well-placed shot would kill the hog instantly, if the shooter missed the kill spot it could lead to trouble and the hog could thrash around and bruise the meat. Ironically this shooter had the palsy, but his reputation included that he would push a match into the corner of his car shed and at a distance of approximately 30 feet he could shoot the match and light it, and the next shot he would shoot the match and extinguish it and all this was offhanded. Amazing for a man with that physical disability. After the shot immediately the “sticker” would jump in and with precision stick the hog in the throat area so it would bleed out. Once this happened into the scalding trough it went, which was filled with boiling hot water. This removed the hair, and from there on to the hanging poles where the hog intestines were removed and the skin was scraped to remove remaining hair. The hog was halved and the cutting began, an amazing procedure.
Now keep in mind the women weren’t left out. Their jobs included cleaning the intestinal lining that would be used to case the sausage links and another feminine job was preparing a meal at lunch consisting of fresh hog meat fit for a king.
Everything was used and all meat such as tongues and scraps would go into the pudding meat. It is best for the average consumer to not know what all went into the pudding meat. The fat on the hog was cut into small squares and cooked into the kettle at a boiling temperature, then put into a lard press, and squeezed until all the lard was drained out of the fat. After that the fat now a golden brown and crunchy became cracklings, most delicious, but I’m not really sure how healthy they were for you.
This was an all-day job that started very early and wasn’t over till very late, and when the butchering was done then all this equipment needed to be cleaned and put away, this most likely explains why this practice isn’t done too much anymore. If you want stories about butchering just ask any home-grown man over the age of 70 and you will learn all you need to know.
One breed that was used was the Berkshire, an almost all Black hog that would finish out between 700 -800 lbs., with some up to 1000Lbs. The story goes that it would take seven or eight men to hang these hogs. Not only quantity but quality, for they were known for their delicious meat. One person I talked to said the hams could go as much as 60 Lbs. each. And make as much as 20-25 gallons of lard, yes from one hog.
Old timers would say they would use everything of the hog except the tail and the squeal, but some used the tail to grease the skillets.
Years ago, as mentioned before, most all rural families had a hog pen. It was not uncommon to butcher six hogs or more. The Dove family and others also butchered a beef and hung it till early spring, then canned what was left. Also, hogs were used as the garbage disposal for any table scraps were used to “slop the hogs” as butchering time came near ear corn was fed to the hogs to sweeten the meat. But as my space is almost used up, I have one last story. A person must be careful as to what to feed the hogs. There was a Bergton resident that made his normal run of liquor. After his run he decided to feed the hogs the mash from his run. Sometime in the middle of the night a terrible commotion arose outside. He grabbed his flashlight and ran outside, and what did he find? His hogs were setting up on their butts squealing at the top of their voice. I don’t know if they were hollering for more or like a bunch of drunks arguing, but whichever, that must have been some powerful mash!
Want to share, email me at fulksrunfollies@gmail.com
Happy New Year
Until next time
Believe it or not
Ronnie
