One day along the middle of November, Papa Thomas would say
it was time to get things ready for the first cold day when we would kill
hogs. Or as the old folks would say, “The
first day that is fitting”. And believe
me, when you put your feet on the floor on that morning you didn’t have to be
told that today was the day. Water had
to be drawn, the kettles had to be filled and fire had to be started under the
kettles.
By now the neighbor men were there and it all began. I always hated the squeal of the
animals. We always killed three at a
time. The water in the kettles is
boiling hot and after the men have killed and stuck the hogs, the put them down
in the scalding water, head first and then the other end.
The knives they used had been sharpened to a fine edge and
are used to scrape the hogs removing the hair.
When the men are finished with this chore, the hogs are hoisted up in a
tree with their heads hanging down and then they are gutted and cleaned out.
Whoever is fixing dinner comes out and takes one of the big
livers and a tender loin. They then take
these inside where they are fixed for dinner along with beans, potatoes,
turnips, and greens along with a large pan of biscuits and corn bread. There are also a Black Berry cobbler and a
scratch cake for desert and to wash it down, there is black coffee and tea.
The hogs are then hung in the smokehouse where they drain
overnight until all the body heat is gone.
Then they are cut up and heavily salted.
The salt is then rubbed into the meat that makes up the bacon, the
shoulders, jowls, and hams. Sausage is
smoked with smoke from a small smoldering fire in the floor. Only hickory wood is used and the fire is kept
burning or smoking for about two weeks.
Each person, every child to the oldest person had a job to do
and it was an important job. Each person
did their job because they knew if they didn’t that someone else would have to
do your part for them. And you weren’t
about to let that happen.
