Saturday, October 27, 2012
My little red object is merely to show the center of gravity, an important thing if you’re the person wielding one of these big rascals. And I speak from experience.
Having literally grown up in a slaughterhouse, at age four or five I sat on a lard can day after day in the “kill room” eating an Eskimo Pie as I watched the process from start to finish. A pig or steer would be led in to the small concrete room and within a short period of time rolled out as two halves each swinging from a hook attached to a roller on an overhead rail. From there the halves would be pushed along the rail and directly into a cooler where they’d age for fourteen days or so.
