July 23, 2014 at 2:10 p.m.
Mention sparks memories (10/28/03)
Editor's Mailbag
By To the editor:-
Having read Dorothy Warner’s column last week has prompted me to write concerning her mention of the “Country Meat Market.” This was located on Blaine Pike next to the Twin Bridges and owned by my grandparents, Chester and Edna Hanks. Mrs. Warner was right when she said there was always plenty of meat in their cases. A lot of it was given away to families in need.
I have spent many an enjoyable Saturday “helping” my Grandpa deliver meat to elderly customers in Portland. I was his “secretary,” and it was my job to tell him where to go next and have their packages ready for him to take to their door. The meat was piled in little stacks on the back seat of his old green squeaking Oldsmobile. The springs squeaked constantly and were apparently in need of a little grease.
Chester made his own sausage and cracklings. There is no greater memory than reliving a Saturday morning, standing around watching him render lard and press the cracklings. Between the heat of a wood fire and the aroma of freshly cooked and pressed cracklings it was heaven. The wheel of pressed cracklings looked as big as a wash tub to an 8-year-old kid, but I’m sure it was much smaller.
He was a small, wiry man barely five feet tall, but had been a butcher and dressed meat all his life. He started out as a young boy butchering for George Earhart, out in the country, not far from where he would build his own slaughterhouse. He walked five miles to get to his job and five miles to get home. He earned $3 a week and gave it to his mother. He passed away on Sept. 21, 1960.
Edna Hanks, his wife and my grandmother, worked in the front of their market talking, visiting and selling their meats to friends and neighbors.
She came to make her home with my mother and myself in 1983 and lived here until her death on Sept. 29, 1992.
Having been born in 1898, she witnessed all of the inventions and progressions made in the 20th Century. One of her favorite stories was while at the at the age of 4, she had sat on the curb and watched a black man lay the brick on North Meridian Street near the Votaw Street intersection — the same brick that was removed recently in the downtown renovation. She was 4 years old, so the brick would have been placed there in 1902.
Chester and Edna had many friends around Portland and are fondly remembered by their family.
Sue Wallace
Deerfield
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I have spent many an enjoyable Saturday “helping” my Grandpa deliver meat to elderly customers in Portland. I was his “secretary,” and it was my job to tell him where to go next and have their packages ready for him to take to their door. The meat was piled in little stacks on the back seat of his old green squeaking Oldsmobile. The springs squeaked constantly and were apparently in need of a little grease.
Chester made his own sausage and cracklings. There is no greater memory than reliving a Saturday morning, standing around watching him render lard and press the cracklings. Between the heat of a wood fire and the aroma of freshly cooked and pressed cracklings it was heaven. The wheel of pressed cracklings looked as big as a wash tub to an 8-year-old kid, but I’m sure it was much smaller.
He was a small, wiry man barely five feet tall, but had been a butcher and dressed meat all his life. He started out as a young boy butchering for George Earhart, out in the country, not far from where he would build his own slaughterhouse. He walked five miles to get to his job and five miles to get home. He earned $3 a week and gave it to his mother. He passed away on Sept. 21, 1960.
Edna Hanks, his wife and my grandmother, worked in the front of their market talking, visiting and selling their meats to friends and neighbors.
She came to make her home with my mother and myself in 1983 and lived here until her death on Sept. 29, 1992.
Having been born in 1898, she witnessed all of the inventions and progressions made in the 20th Century. One of her favorite stories was while at the at the age of 4, she had sat on the curb and watched a black man lay the brick on North Meridian Street near the Votaw Street intersection — the same brick that was removed recently in the downtown renovation. She was 4 years old, so the brick would have been placed there in 1902.
Chester and Edna had many friends around Portland and are fondly remembered by their family.
Sue Wallace
Deerfield
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