The Red Flannel Rag

Dad had already put the cure on the jowls that Uncle Jake had taken from the

hogs’ heads. The jowls were the fat part under the hogs’ chins. It had a sweet flavor and

made the best bacon. The sides of the hogs were trimmed out into squares of meat

about two inches thick. This was cured into bacon. The ribs were chopped into three-

inch sections and canned by the women the next day or so.

Usually most of the hogs were killed and cleaned by ten o’clock. It had been a

long time since breakfast, so the helpers took turns going to the house for hot coffee and

a piece or pie or cake. When they stepped onto the back porch, they were greeted with

the smells of the noon meal. This meal, for my family, replaced the traditional

Thanksgiving dinner since all the men in my family would be deer hunting during the

week of Thanksgiving including Thanksgiving Day.

Mom, Aunt Ethel and Aunt Hazel were in their element. All the men bragged on

Mom’s pies and sniffed the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. They would say

things like, “I’m not gonna eat too much pie now, because I want to save room for

dinner.”

Aunt Ethel would be busy on the porch frying platters of meat, and the men

would stop and say things like, “I’m glad to see you fixin’ the meat. I remember how

good it was last year.” The head butcher never left the kettles. It was expected that

Mom would carry hot coffee and pie to him throughout the morning.

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