My Early Thanksgiving Memories

November in Tennessee was much colder when I was a child than it is now. We knew it would be “hog-killin’ weather” on our long Thanksgiving weekend from school. Since my father was a teacher, this was a good opportunity to get our hams and bacon and sausage prepared for the long winter ahead.

I never saw my father shoot their big, fat hog in the head, but I knew that’s what he did. As far as I knew, it was the only time he ever used his rifle, unless he was shooting at the crows in his corn.

Carving up the hog was a skill my father and grandfather shared. Granddaddy had a smokehouse on his home property in town, and that was where we got together to do the work.

While the men prepared the meat, Grandmother would stitch on her sewing machine long muslin bags to stuff with sausage. Then as we used it through the winter, we could just peel back the muslin and slice off whatever we needed. Grandmother and Mother had the job of grinding and seasoning the sausage with just the right amount of pepper and sage. Even today, I buy Jimmy Dean Sage Sausage because other sausage just doesn’t seem to be seasoned properly.

Granddaddy and Daddy carved the hams and bacon, rubbed them thoroughly with salt, and hung them in the smokehouse. Granddaddy would carefully monitor the low, smoking fire for several days until the meat was cured and would keep through the winter.

The men trimmed the fat off the sections of meat and boiled it in a big, black cauldron over a fire in the back yard. This was “rendering lard” to be used all winter. After a few hours and with time for it to cool, they poured the lard into large tin containers with lids to use as needed. Crisco was popular for cooking, but most people agreed that, except for cakes, lard made everything taste better. No cholesterol concerns back then! And my grandfather lived to be almost 99, so I guess the negatives of his diet were offset by all his physical activity.

I loved eating the bits of pork that were left after the lard was rendered. They were crunchy and salty, with just enough bacon taste to be delicious. We called them “cracklins,” and they were my favorite part of the day. Mother would add some to the cornbread for dinner, and I always looked forward to eating the cracklin’ bread.

Our family referred to the midday meal as “dinner” and the evening meal as “supper,” no matter the size of the meal. For both meals that day, we usually had pinto beans, fresh sausage, and cracklin’ bread. Delicious! Of course all was always accompanied by large glasses of iced tea.

When my grandfather and father decided to quit bothering with raising and slaughtering hogs, our gross, lovely, busy hog-killin’ activities ceased. And with it went the memory of hearing the adults say, “Christmas will be here before you know it.” I thought that was the most ridiculous things I’d ever heard, since clearly Christmas was a very long way off.

The first year Steve and I were married, we spent Thanksgiving with my parents and most of the time we were stripping tobacco in a cold barn. That’s the process of taking each leaf off the dried tobacco stalk and binding it in small bunches. It had been hanging in the rafters of the barn to dry. Some folks who raised tobacco would smoke theirs, but my family never did.

Steve was pretty surprised that our dinner that day was hot dogs. We were too busy stripping tobacco to have time to cook. Daddy’s time away from school was limited and he wanted all of us to help while we were available. Steve had never dealt with tobacco, of course, and he soon learned how hard it is to get that dried, gummy substance off the hands. Good thing for Lava soap—the only thing that would get of the tobacco gum.

Steve often chided Daddy for being so against smoking and yet raising tobacco, and Daddy finally conceded his point. He quit raising tobacco, and our Thanksgiving farm work came to an end. Mother started cooking big dinners and inviting everyone who didn’t have Thanksgiving plans to join us.

Aunts, uncles, cousins, distant relatives, friends, and someone Mother just met could be included. It was a wonderful environment for us to take our children—showing them the graciousness of hospitality and love to everyone. Lovely Thanksgiving memories!

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!