The Red Flannel Rag

became her job. When the hog was clean, the head butcher split the carcass along the

backbone into halves. The head butcher called for a man to carry each half of the hog to

the meat boards where it would be cut up and placed into piles.

Left to right: Uncle Shirley, Preacher Isaac Risser, Mom in the foreground, Susan Martindale, and Winston Rhodes trimming and shaping the hams and shoulders

My brother, John, is a small man, but like Dad, he is very strong. The butcher

yelled at him first, “Hey John, come here a get this hog out of my way.”

At this point an interesting ritual began to unfold. A half of one of Dad’s hogs

weighed close to three hundred pounds, so it was no small feat to carry it to the meat

boards. If John had carried the first half the year before, he passed the job on to another

young man who wanted to show his strength.

He would say to one of our younger cousins who had not carried a half before,

“Come here and carry this hog, I’ve got a bad back this year.” The young man would get

in position with the half placed solidly across his shoulder. He planted his legs so he

wouldn’t collapse when the butcher cut the tendon in the foot that was holding the hog

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