WHERE'S THE BEEF?
Undated note attached to a package of frozen beef shipped by rail.
To whomsoever reads this:
This baggage contains some frozen beef an old Hoosier pappy is taking his daughter and grandchildren in Worcester, Mass. It left Greencastle, Ind., at 12:50 p.m.(?)3-29-49 on N.Y.C. No. 12 (Southwestern). The old pappy and his meat will probably part company at Buffalo, where his car will be transferred to N.Y.C. No. 28 (New England States) that evidently does not carry baggage. So, where and how his meat will go from Buffalo on, only you will know—the old pappy hopes the quickest and most direct way, and therefore respectfully asks your help, if you can give any.
The meat you are sitting on just didn't happen—like paw paws and wild black berries. It is out of an 1,800-pound, nearly three- year-old Hereford steer, dry-lot and corn-fed for over a year. In case you don't know . . . the 1947-48 and 1948-49 winters in Indiana weren't exactly like Miami Beach of a sunny Sunday afternoon. . . Rain, snow and sleet. Cold rubber boots in February mud. Sockless shoes in July dust. All the clothes you can pile on in winter, and about all the law allows you to take off in hot summer. . . The cement water tank has to be kept full of clean drinking water in summer, and the tank warmer going on below freezing days.
"Seminole IV," as we called him, to finish out well, had to have a clean place in the barn to eat, to stand in, and to sleep in. That called for a pitch fork, a strong back, and a conveniently placed manure spreader. Fresh bedding, feed grinder going every other day, a handy block of salt, a little ground alfalfa hay, the gates and corn crib doors kept shut. . . We'll say nothing about the 150 odd bushels of ground corn it took to put Seminole to 1,800 pounds, but it didn't just sift itself into his feed trough automatically—from nowhere.
No. There was more to Seminole than the well-trimmed sirloin steak you see on the kitchen table all ready for the broiler.
And so it may happen after grandpappy is gone and the grandchildren are grown-up and in well-worn harness themselves, they will say, "Well, the old fellow was a pretty good sort after all, but, on the other hand, it does seem that with the War prices they had in his day, he could have left a little more if he had tried a little harder."
Just in the event you want to make some comments and have the time and inclination to tell of Seminole's progress and last whereabouts, I am enclosing some addressed post cards for your convenience. Nothing compulsory—wholly voluntary. I thank you. Prayerfully,