What I Remember About My Time At McClellan Processing

The silly things you keep when you're a sentimental person. I could have used this on the #occupation prompt but I didn't know I still had it. I'm the daughter of a #butcher

McClellan's Processing Co. was the family business. Many of us worked there through the years -- Great grandparents, grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins... some more than others but we all spent some time there. It's an interesting way to spend your youth, that's for sure.

I was really young when they still killed poultry on Fridays. I remember getting up extra early on those days. It was still dark by the time we'd make it over the plant. And I woud climb those tall narrow concrete stairs. I'd be given a broom to start sweeping the porch while Dad starting setting up and we'd wait for our first customers. Later, when everything got under way I helped my Mammy band the bags of finished product (chickens and turkeys). I , with my trusty Australian Shepherd, rounded up strays, I unloaded cages (I hated that - I was a bigger chicken than the chickens - probably why there were so many strays!). The few times I made it to the 'line' Grandma Nall taught me not to bust the gall-bladder lest you turn green. I don't remember the year they quit doing poultry but I think I was still in single digits.

When you're as young as I was, there wasn't a whole lot to do while waiting for age appropriate tasks. It was often cold and I can remember sitting close to the room heater and touching the bottom of my shoes to the glass panels and it melting the bottom of my shoes (yes, on purpose -- boredom is a terrible thing.). The heater looked something like this:



One of my age appropriate tasks was helping Grandma Nall wrap and stamp the meat and I also got to shove the meat down the grinder to make hamburger. When I grew up I had to help on the boning table. Curse that stupid boning table. I HATED that job. HATED it. I didn't mind grinding the hamburger, or tenderizing the steaks or rubbing the hams down with cure. I did hate that stupid white towel I had to wear on my head to keep my hair back but I hated hair nets worse so I wore the kerchief.

My dad lived next door and I loved the days Uncle Mike would fire up the smoker for the cured meat. It smelled so amazing outside.

I remember we were occasionally able to quit cutting meat early, but we still had to wait until 5 o'clock for customers. Those times were often filled sitting in the office and reading The Reader's Digest out loud with my dad.

I remember long time employees, Opal and Belva. And lunch time when it was a pot-luck.

I remember Tyson hogs. They would bring in a HUGE trailer full of hogs and we'd do pork for weeks.

There was one customer who would bring in his beefalo (the offspring of a cow and American Bison). He would often like to come and watch us cut his meat.

Another thing I remember is certain smells. Sometimes cookies or cake will take you back in time to a grandmother. The smell that will take me back to my time spent at the locker plant every time, is the smell of bleach and blue dawn dish soap. That is what we used to clean the tables and equipment and was a signal to the end of the day.

These are a few of my memories of my time spent working at the family business.

I hope the rest of my family will weigh in with some of their memories.

Until next time,
Becky