The Wilson family's yearly schedule was organized around the turkey business. My parents were Greenbrier County farmers who diversified with Shorthorn cattle, sheep, pigs, chickens, and turkeys. As the family increased from two to six so did the number of turkeys. With four children to educate the number grew to 9,000 when they supplied The Greenbrier and the Homestead kitchens.
The turkeys arrived by truck when they were a day old. As a young child, I suddenly had thousands of new playthings. First job of the season was to desnout the poults. This required hand pinching the tiny snout to remove it. I was very slow in the beginning and did one for every fifty my mother or Mary Bryant completed. As the turkeys grew they would turn from pecking for food to pecking each other. Once this started, we knew the debeaker would appear. We would be spending the next day catching each bird, holding its upper beak to a fire hot blade, which would remove the sharp point and eliminate the problem. What a hot job in a turkey house kept at 80 degrees! We could hardly wait to finish and were often rewarded with a trip to our Tuckwiller neighbor's pool. At eight weeks, the turkeys, which had now grown to fill the house, were moved out on range. Another long hot workday was in store with extra help recruited. Each turkey was caught, given a shot, loaded in a pick up truck, and then unloaded in one of the farm fields that had been temporarily fenced.
We kept four hound dogs that were stationed with their doghouses at intervals outside the fence to prevent foxes and other predators from attacking the defenseless birds. I was so excited at age twelve when it was finally my turn to drive Mother to the dogs. This was our own family driver's education course. Each day we made a trip from the house to the field to feed the dogs and check the turkeys. i did not realize until I became a parent that Mother knew so much about psychology.
Next came dressing season. No, we did not make individual little outfits for each turkey. It was time to slaughter each bird to meet the orders that my mother had taken by phone. The selected turkey would be placed in a metal funnel head down and with a sharp knife quickly beheaded. After the blood drained, the next stop was the scalding vat. Water was heated in a large vat to 130 degrees. The lifeless bird was dunked in this hot water several times to loosen the feathers. The next station required a sharp knife to remove the feet and head. An electric turkey picker was invested in that removed the majority of the large feathers. The turkey was then placed on a table. Next all the small remaining feathers were removed by hand. Then Mary Bryant would quickly open the turkey and remove the guts and the neck. The liver, gizzard, heart and neck were saved. My least favorite assignment was cleaning the gizzard. It was a smelly, difficult job to open the gizzard with a knife and separate the lining from the rest of it. My mother would perform the final inspection by washing each bird before plunging it into a large vat filled with water and blocks of ice.
The turkeys were chilled overnight. Oh, I remember those early wake up calls on frosty November mornings. My father was in charge of wake up because we would not ignore him. You can imagine what it felt like to stick your hand in that icy water to retrieve the turkeys and place them in a shopping cart to drain. The turkeys were stuffed with the giblets and placed in a plastic bag. To remove the air out of the bag we used a sweeper. The turkey was then weighed and the orders were filled.
My favorite job was the retail position. After determining the weight, the price was calculated and sales tax added. The money was collected from the customer and often verbal instructions were given on how to cook the perfect turkey. Deliveries were also great fun with loads taken to individual homes in the area. What a treat for a 16 year old.
This process brings back many memories. I learned much more through these experiences than how to raise turkeys. I learned about hard work, organization, adversity ( the year 20 percent of the turkeys died), team effort, honesty and especially love. My parents loved the farm way of life. Mary Bryant, Hunter Lephew, Leo Shepherd and others worked tirelessly to make the turkey business a success. Through the shared experiences on the farm, I was nurtured and loved as well as educated in what is truly important in life.
Ann McClung wrote this essay as part of a writing class at Shepherd’s Center of Greenbrier Valley in Spring, 2003.