The Blackfoot Valley's News Source Since 1980

Feeding the haying crews

Tis not the meat, but 'tis the appetite

Makes eating a delight.

Of Thee, Kind Boy

John Suckling

1609 - 1642

The haying crews were large during the years that the ranches put up loose hay. A normal team was eleven men on most places – some had more, others fewer.

Many of the hired men came from Butte to escape the bad air of the mines for a couple months; some lived in towns nearby, and others had no homes that we knew of. I think a good number were hiding from abandoned families or the legal system. It didn't matter to the ranchers as long as they were willing to work.

They were paid $8 a day, plus board and room. The sleeping conditions were usually rustic, crowded, and often not so clean. But the meals were robust and varied. The fare was the main parameter by which the working and living conditions were judged. Many times as a child I listened to hired men from different ranches compare the meals they were being served. Work in those days, was supposed to be trying, so that was a given and rarely discussed.

The men could abide a difficult boss or miserable working conditions with few resources, but they wanted to be well fed. Many of the transient men who lived in no fixed place except where they happened to be working, put a lot of importance on the quality and quantity of the food – especially the quantity. Every person at the table easily consumed three or four times the normal caloric intake of those with less physically demanding professions.

I was told that during the Great Depression, some men worked on the ranches during slow times, earning just a bed and meals. They were warm and dry, plus they had a full belly, which was more than many enjoyed.

Food never faulted at the table. Every morning there were two large platters of eggs which were never empty, as well as bacon, pancakes, toast, and the rest.

The noon and evening meals were the same. We often had a large roast at each end of the long table, plus the ubiquitous potatoes, cooked any number of ways. There was always dessert after every meal.

The mediocre refrigeration we had in those days didn't allow for a lot of fresh fruits, so dessert was often canned peaches or canned orange and grapefruit sections. I don't know how they did it, but the cooks some found some time to make pies and cakes a few times a week. There was always the choice of milk, water, iced tea, Kool Aid or coffee to drink.

There was little talk at the table. The crew was there to eat. The mowers had sickles to sharpen and the others sometimes had small repairs to make on their equipment before they left for the field. In the evenings there were machines to be greased and other maintenance performed.

Sundays were always taken off because the horses had to be rested, so the cooks had it somewhat easier. They set out a light breakfast in the morning and a platter of sandwiches for dinner. Note: in rural America "dinner" is the midday meal, and "supper" is eaten in the evening. Once, when I was living in a resort area, I was asked to dinner at a very wealthy household. I arrived just before noon, all dressed up. It was awkward.

Although the men in the field got the credit for hard work, it was really the cooks who held the agrarian ship together. They were up before 5 a.m., and were often still working late into the evening, getting ready for the next day. Potatoes had to be peeled, meat thawed, the dishes washed, and the table set for 6 a.m. the next morning. Floors were swept and mopped, the dish towels hung to dry, plus a score of other chores were attended to.

There were times I stayed into the evening to watch TV with my grandparents and great uncle. My grandmother never sat more than 15 minutes in front of the television without making a trip to the kitchen to attend to something. She was in her 60's then. None of the men, including me, ever asked if she might need a hand with something in the kitchen. That was women's work and we men had finished our day.

In all the years I hayed, and for many years afterward, I never realized the effort the cooks exerted. Their days were much more demanding than the men's, but the women and their toil were taken for granted.

I never remember a meal being late, even by a few minutes. And I don't remember anything on the table ever running out. There was always plenty.

It was the lowly, forgotten cooks who really kept the operations together.

 

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