RIDING WITH THE LOCAL USED COW DEALER - 1

He says he's the last guy

you want to see but the first guy you call when you've got a dead steer or a hog has gone down. Nobody wants the job, but everybody needs it done. He can make a living at it, but he gets little respect. He's the fellow who picks up dead animals off the farms and hauls them to the rendering plant. He drives the "meat wagon," the "used animal mobile," the rendering truck. It's god-awful work, but it's honorable and it has got to be done.

Cindy Engelhart of Wisner Rendering laughed when I called and told her I wanted to spend a day riding in the truck while her husband went about his business of picking up dead animals in the West Point/Wisner area of eastern Nebraska. She laughed and said, "This is a joke, right?" Like it was a prank call, Candid Camera, or I was making fun of her. "This is a joke, right?" she said again. "We can't even get people who might want to work for us to spend a day riding in the truck."

"No," I said, "it's not a joke. Your husband does honorable and necessary work, and I'd like to spend a day riding with him."

Well, she'd have Steve call me back in the evening when he got home. When Steve and I talked, I arranged to be at the Engelharts' place in the country northwest of West Point by 8:00 a.m. on Thursday.

On Wednesday night, Cindy called me at my motel. She said, "We're having breakfast at 8:00 a.m." Okay, I thought, change of plans. "So - that means you want me to come out there closer to eight-thirty or quarter-to-nine?" I ventured. "No," she said, "it means I'm inviting you for breakfast."

I arrived on time for breakfast Thursday morning, May 1, Feast of St. Joseph the Workman, 8:00 a.m., in a grey rain. It would be a cool day, which is always good in the rendering business. Dead animals can get awfully ripe in the heat of full sun by the time Steve gets to the farm to pick them up. A dull, grey day helps hold down the stink.

Cindy was making pancakes when I arrived, and "fresh-squeezed eggs," bacon. After we all got introduced, Steve fed the cat, Cindy went on making breakfast, I found a chair at the kitchen table, we talked. Steve is a big bear of a man, you wouldn't want to have to tackle him, or break his tackle. He wears a fierce mustache on a jagged face, he's got enough muscle he could swat me down any time he wished. You could tell he wouldn't, though; he has interesting and interested eyes, this look of curiosity that comes across his face now and again. He likes to talk and has something to say. Cindy runs "Cindy's Sewing" out of the home - there's a sign for her business out by the road. Steve said she drives truck for him, too, when she has to, in the busiest times. The Engelharts rent the place they live on, they have some horses, the landlord feeds cattle across the yard from the house, Steve keeps his rendering trucks parked in front of the garage. After we'd eaten, Steve suited up - coveralls, his tall rubber boots, gloves. It was 8:50 a.m. when we climbed in the truck. The door of the truck is painted with the company's name; and I saw that I'd be riding with "Your Local Used Cow Dealer."

"First, we pick up some pigs," Steve said.

To be continued....

Comments

[Les]

It is kind of funny. Everyone says that the rendering guy has a terrible job. Bull! Excuse the pun; but I did it for over two years, and it was not that bad. I would do it all: go to grocery stores and pick up scrap meat and grease, pick up restaurant grease, and slaughter house leftovers: bones, guts, heads, hooves, tails, etc. I never got dirty and never smelled. So what is the deal? I guess that means that most people just do not knows what the hell they are talking about. I did not mind the job at all, I hated the long hours!

[Tom Montag]

Hi, Les. Thanks for the good word. I guess the only ones who don't think it's a bad job are the ones who do it. Certainly it has to be done, and it's honorable work. Thanks for your observations.