Today my wife had a luncheon so I was left to my own devices to fix for myself. I didn't feel like going out to eat alone so I scoured the pantry for something within my abilities. My eyes settled on an out-of-date can of Vienna Sausages. I decided that those sausages, a hunk of rat cheese, some crackers, and a Shiner Bock would adequately sooth my feelings of abandonment.
I haven't eaten Vienna Sausage in years but as I opened that can of sausages my mind flashed back almost 70 years.
In those years during and immediately following WWII, even though I was less than 10 years old, I was the only "hand" that my dad had to help him on our ranch. At times we would find ourselves miles from the house, working cattle or building fence, when lunch time rolled around. Often, our transportation would be a well worn old pick-up. Behind the seat back my dad would drag out, from the mixture of tire chains, tools, screw worm medicine, etc., a tin of vienna sausage and sleeve of saltine crackers. The label of the can was always long gone and the cardboard cracker box was crushed...but that did nothing to lessen the thrill of sharing that feast with my dad. To wash it down there was always a Mason jar wrapped in burlap and full of spring water hanging from the outside mirror by a piece of bailing wire. It was in a time when you could still drink water from the springs that flowed from the side of the hills and soaking that burlap jar in the cold spring water allowed the evaporation to keep it cool during the hottest Texas summer.
I mentioned that old pick-up. For those of later generations who only know pick-ups as being indistinguishable from an SUV with the exception of the bed, a few pointers are in order. In those days immediately preceding or following WWII, a pick-up was nearer in description to a tractor. They usually had 6 cyl. flat head engines (that anyone could overhaul!), Four speed manual transmissions (low was "granny") and you started off in second gear. Whenever you had to use "granny" you knew you were probably bumping up against the performance limits of the beast.
They had springs, but those springs weren't designed for the comfort of the occupants...they were designed to keep a bed full of hay bales or calves from hitting the axles. Usually, there was also a set of "overload" springs to further stiffen the load. No radio, no air conditioning...well, that's not exactly correct. You had roll down windows and a great little triangular "vent window" that you could turn to direct the hot air directly into your face. In the winter, the heater was usually a gasoline one that burned fumes directly from the carburetor. It put out enough heat to warm that cab in the coldest snow storm.
I referred to the seat back...none of that "crew cab" foo-foo stuff back then. The bench seat was essentially a plank with worn, stained fabric covering it. If it ever had any padding, it was long gone. The seat back hinged forward just enough to put the jack and perhaps an old raincoat back there. No room for much more besides the crackers and sausage because that space was shared with the gas tank. There was always a gun rack screwed to the rear window. On that rack lived a .22 rifle and a lariat. Sure wish I still had that old truck...
Thanks to that simple can of Vienna Sausages for bringing the memories flooding back. I may just write them down on the grocery list again.
Bob
I haven't eaten Vienna Sausage in years but as I opened that can of sausages my mind flashed back almost 70 years.
In those years during and immediately following WWII, even though I was less than 10 years old, I was the only "hand" that my dad had to help him on our ranch. At times we would find ourselves miles from the house, working cattle or building fence, when lunch time rolled around. Often, our transportation would be a well worn old pick-up. Behind the seat back my dad would drag out, from the mixture of tire chains, tools, screw worm medicine, etc., a tin of vienna sausage and sleeve of saltine crackers. The label of the can was always long gone and the cardboard cracker box was crushed...but that did nothing to lessen the thrill of sharing that feast with my dad. To wash it down there was always a Mason jar wrapped in burlap and full of spring water hanging from the outside mirror by a piece of bailing wire. It was in a time when you could still drink water from the springs that flowed from the side of the hills and soaking that burlap jar in the cold spring water allowed the evaporation to keep it cool during the hottest Texas summer.
I mentioned that old pick-up. For those of later generations who only know pick-ups as being indistinguishable from an SUV with the exception of the bed, a few pointers are in order. In those days immediately preceding or following WWII, a pick-up was nearer in description to a tractor. They usually had 6 cyl. flat head engines (that anyone could overhaul!), Four speed manual transmissions (low was "granny") and you started off in second gear. Whenever you had to use "granny" you knew you were probably bumping up against the performance limits of the beast.
They had springs, but those springs weren't designed for the comfort of the occupants...they were designed to keep a bed full of hay bales or calves from hitting the axles. Usually, there was also a set of "overload" springs to further stiffen the load. No radio, no air conditioning...well, that's not exactly correct. You had roll down windows and a great little triangular "vent window" that you could turn to direct the hot air directly into your face. In the winter, the heater was usually a gasoline one that burned fumes directly from the carburetor. It put out enough heat to warm that cab in the coldest snow storm.
I referred to the seat back...none of that "crew cab" foo-foo stuff back then. The bench seat was essentially a plank with worn, stained fabric covering it. If it ever had any padding, it was long gone. The seat back hinged forward just enough to put the jack and perhaps an old raincoat back there. No room for much more besides the crackers and sausage because that space was shared with the gas tank. There was always a gun rack screwed to the rear window. On that rack lived a .22 rifle and a lariat. Sure wish I still had that old truck...
Thanks to that simple can of Vienna Sausages for bringing the memories flooding back. I may just write them down on the grocery list again.
Bob
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