Friday, Mary and I drove to my hometown to attend the funeral of my aunt. She was a gracious and loving lady who lived a long and full life to 96 years. It was not only a celebration of her full life, but a time to share memories with relatives and friends I had not seen for years.
Like most kids growing up in the 1940s, I was a "Jack of all Trades"... and possibly to most of my employers, "A master of None"... but I can't be sure. I mowed lawns in elementary school and graduated to working on a turkey farm for three summers. My longest tenured job was working as a telephone lineman for the local telephone company. Not dial phone service, but a phone company that was one of the last "crank" phone operations in the state of Minnesota. Complete with a "central" office that housed a telephone operator twenty four hours a day. I worked for the telephone company for six summers, becoming a formable "climber" and repairer of phone lines. My aunt, whose funeral we attended, was one of those operators ... along with a second dear aunt, from my other side of the family.
What was unique about that telephone company was the "service". When I was in college and called home, I would get the central office's familiar voices and phrase, "number please". My home phone number was 4-2, which was not always immediately rung. Many times, if one of my aunts was the operator, I would have to tell them how I was doing at school or other pertinent information to my well being. Better yet, if my mother was not at home, I would get a "play by play" account on where she was and what time she would be home.
I also worked at a local grocery store and meat market, an interim between the turkey farm and telephone employment. At the funeral luncheon, I had a chance to renew acquaintance with Les and his wife Ruby who owned the local meat market. We exchanged a few humorous stories and how I learned to make Norwegian Polse.
Polse was a beef/pork sausage, stuffed into a natural casing with "secret formula" spices. As a kid, I sat in the back room at the sausage grinder with a bucket of spices and beef and pork chunks. We recounted how people would journey many miles and cross state lines to purchase this wonderful Norwegian sausage. The meat market is no longer in operation, but Les and Ruby formulate it each year and give it as Christmas gifts to their children and grand children.
Our conversation turned to his parents who started the meat market in the early 1900s. Les is now 86 years old and his mother and father passed away years ago. I told him how much his mom and dad meant to my mom and dad who were the best of friends. Ultimately, when you bring Les's dad into a conversation, you bring back the topic of "polse" making... plus, red meat in my immediate family was and still is like a burnt offering or some sacred rite. I told Les that I still try to emulate his dad's "polse" recipe each Christmas season, but it is never the same. Les said that his first lesson in the meat market was this... "My dad always said when it comes to meat and making 'polse', you 'First start with the good stuff and go on from there". Meaning, the quality of the ingredients were more important than the price. I paused for a moment and told him, "I believe It is the same way in life". With a tear in my eye, I gave him a hug and told him how much I appreciated what he and his dad did for me.
I am fortunate to have lived in that marvelous period of time; if any of you have watched and pondered the movie "A Christmas Story", you have an idea of what I mean. These old friends and mentors were truly "The Greatest Generation".
"Line Up"
Flying Squirrel
Gray Fox
When we returned to Cedar Ridge around 10:00 p.m. after the 620 mile round trip, my son Brett had fed the deer, Flying Squirrel and Gray Fox. It was a good day.......... "FIRST START WITH THE GOOD STUFF AND GO ON FROM THERE".
No comments:
Post a Comment