The Big Mac Starter Kit

     The year was 2007.   We decided to homeschool our son, James, for a variety of reasons in which I will spare the readers since that in a whole different blog in itself.  He was in Kindergarten that year.  He loves to learn but he has a hard time staying still.  I taught him to read as he ran laps around our livingroom.  Every time he ran a lap I would hold up a new sight word card, "The" and he would say, "The" and take another lap.  I would hold up "That" and he would read "That" out loud and continue with another lap.  It wasn't a traditional way of teaching someone to read but somehow, at that time, his moving kept his brain moving too.

     I discovered a homeschooling group that was meeting on the other side of the county.  I was pleased that it wasn't too far away from me.  The mom's there were wonderful and the kids really enjoyed getting together once a week to learn as a group.  All the mom's helped out and taught a little something.   At times the older kids would bring in a dessert that they learned to make to share with all of us. 

     We decided to take a trip to Ebel's General Store in Falmouth, Michigan.  Falmouth is a small little town in Missaukee County in the northern lower peninsula of Michigan.  Ebel's is a USDA approved processing facility.  You can bring in your cow, pig, sheep, goat or other meat animal and they will process it for you the way you want it cut up and vacuum seal it.  They will even process the meat into sausages and a variety of jerkys and even smoke it.  We were going to tour their processing plant. 

     I had already been in a pork processing plant in Chicago when my husband, Brian, was making a delivery and that was quite interesting (June 6, 2012 blog - Amityville Slaughter House).  I was excited about getting a real tour of a processing plant.  I want to see how a cow goes from eating grass out in the field to my sloppy joe. 

     We all met at Ebel's and the owner set up a nice lunch for all of us, pulled pork sandwiches, cheeses, chips and soda's.  The fellowship was nice and the owner mentioned that he usually gave lunch before the tour as people may not be hungry afterwards.  He talked about how the pulled pork sandwiches we are eating were processed there at Ebel's.   Soon they gathered us up to go into another room. 

 Beef!  (James age 5)

     Everyone had to put on a full body covering.  We were handed paper hats with elastic trim on it and long paper coats.  The younger children had bags put over their coat sleeves so they won't walk around looking like dopey.  A few ladies who worked there offered to watch some of our younger children in the breakroom as the sights might be too disturbing for them to see.  We waved our younger children off as we headed through a set of doors that started our tour through the processing plant. 

     I don't recall everything we seen that day.  I remember being in a room and seeing the making of sausage.  He showed us the casing (or pig intestines) they put at the end of the tube and how it fills with the sausage meat.  The kids eeww'd and groaned at the realization of what the outside of the sausage is.   The sausages were taken to the smoker to get a rich spicy flavor added to it.  A few of the smokers were already in use. 

     We entered another room where the animals are put down.  Grates lined certain areas on the floor and cold hard cement on the other areas.  In the corner of the room there is a metal stall where the animals are herded into.  Chains  hooked to the metal bars attached to a harness an animal would wear.  Up near the ceiling hung large hooks to help carry the dead animal into the other room.  All was quiet and the owner had everyone's attention when he talked about how the animal was put down.  First they make sure the animal is healthy.  Then the animal is chained up to the stall so when the animal is dead it will be easier to move the animal.  He pulled out something that looked similar to an nail gun.  He told us for a cow they put it up to the forehead and pull the trigger and the cow is instantly dead.  There wasn't a cow there at the time for a demostration but said if we really are interested in seeing a full demostration that we can call ahead to see if they are processing that day to see how it goes in action.  Trust me, I was tempted.

     We moved out of that room and into a hallway.  He warned us that the next room might scare some of us or that others may not be able to handle what they are about to see.  Those who do not want to proceed forward can take a detour down the hall and catch up with the group in the next room.  A few people did just that.  I wasn't sure how James would react.  I wanted him to see the process of what happens next yet I didn't want to scare him.  I figured I would take him in slowly and if doesn't like it I would pull him away quickly.  The doors open to the next room.  A chill fills the air... from the coolers.   Rows of deskinned cows hang from ceiling.  I slowly remove my hand over James' eyes.  I was ready to cover them up again and to leave if he got scared.  But he was in awe of it all.

     "Are those cow's?"  he asked in amazement.

     "Well, they were."  I replied still trying to get a feel on how James is reacting to the sight before him.

     "That is so cool!  You can see the ribs!"  and he walks right up to one. 

James is impressed by the hanging beef.

     I catch him quickly so he doesn't touch the meat.  Up close we talk about the anatomy of the cow, where the back was, the legs, and where the head would of been.  I soon realized that James was not afraid of what he was seeing.  Perhaps at a tender young age of 5 he was realizing that this is food.  This is how we get our meat.  I look around, again, at the cold, hard, meat hanging down envisioning juicy roasts in the crock pot and tender steaks on the grill.  Those dead carcasses were looking tastier and tastier. 

     I don't remember much more of the tour.  I think my mind was still hanging with the racks of beef in the cooler.  Everyone received some jerky to take home that was made right there at Ebel's.  I am not much of a jerky eater so I brought it home for my older kids to try. 

     It was definitely a learning experience for this city girl and her son.  A person doesn't look out at a farm watching cows graze and think That's a Big Mac starter kit!   Seeing how it all worked helped me appreciate what goes into the making of our food that lays out before us.

    

    

Where's There Smoke, There's Fire

     It was a cold wintery December 31st day before the New Year.  2007 was ending and the happy promise of 2008 was just around the corner.  I was early in my pregnancy with our 6th child.  We just installed a new power steering pump on our 2000 Plymouth Voyager Flexfuel model and just got it back from the shop about a week prior.  Our back-up GMC Safari was down for a reason I cannot remember at this time.  The day before we went to Brian's sister's place for a post-Christmas gathering.  We got back really late and decided we would unload the van the next day. 

     Brian was looking at the load board and a good load came across but Brian would have to leave right away, unfortunally missing out on New Years night.  I was sad that he had to leave but I understood.  He went out to prep and start his semi as I started to gather his clothes together to take on his voyages.  Brian came back inside frustrated that the truck batteries had died and he needed to jump his truck.  He grabs the keys to the Plymouth and drives up to the front of his semi and hooks the cables up from the van to the truck to jump start it.  He comes back inside to help collect the things he needs to bring with him letting the truck get a good charge before he tries to start it.

     We were talking in the bedroom while I was finishing up packing his bag having small conversation when Elizabeth, who was 9 years old at the time, came into our room.  "I just looked out my bedroom window and I am seeing smoke coming from the van."  she says.

     "Oh, that' not smoke.  That is exhaust from the van going into the air.  Don't worry about it."  Brian says to her.

     "Okay," doubtfully sounding as she left the room.  A few moments later she comes back in.  "I really think it's smoke coming from the van."

     Brian reassured her that she was just seeing the exhaust and how confusing that can be to a young person.  She left the room again.  We went on with our conversation for a little while.  I casually walked into the back room to grab something for Brian.  I looked out the window and I saw flames starting to lick up from the lifted hood of our van.  "OH MY GOODNESS, BRIAN!  THERE IS A FIRE!"  I yell to him. 




Taken December 31, 2007 a short time after we discoved our van
was on fire.  



     He darts across the house to the back door where I was standing.  "MY TRUCK!"  he yells out, "CALL 911!"  He ran out the door and out to the van.

     I grabbed the phone and proceeded to call 911.  The operator asked if the van was near the house or another building.  I told her no but it was near the road and my husband's semi truck.  Of course she also asked if there were any injuries which there were none since we were all inside.  Then she informed me that she was sending the fire department out our way. 

     I put on my shoes and ran out to join Brian.  He was busy trying to toss snow into the engine to try to extinguish the flames but it was of no use.  He realized how close the van was to his truck and tried to drive it further back in the driveway.  He tried to break but it didn't want to stop.  Somehow, with God's help, the van stopped short of entering the roadway.  Brian opens up the slider door of the van and quickly pulls out the car seats and tosses them to the side in the snow.  He dashes over to me with a look of doom in his eyes.  "There's nothing we can do but just watch her burn."  he said. 

     We stood there is awe watching the flames lick up around the van mockingly dancing around taunting at our helplessness.  The children started to come outside to see such an amazing sight.  Our focus turned to the children in keeping them safe.  We went inside and I escorted them to our bedroom where they can see from the window in the safety of indoors.  I grabbed my camera and went back outside to join my husband in watching our van be destroyed before our eyes. 

2000 Plymouth Voyager up in flames.



Look to where the side mirror would be. 
You can see the melted plastic dripping down.
The windows at this point have melted away. 



The fire even goes right down to the tires.

     Then we remember that we had the children's Christmas gifts left inside from the night before.  They were all gone now.  Our favorite music CD's that we would listen to in the car - gone.  Some of the receipts from the trucking business was now up in flames.  Brian realized that he never tried using the alternative fuel that the van was designed to use but he always wanted to try out.

     The heat was so intense that it was hard to get close to it.  We kept watch to make sure a jumping spark didn't set off Brian's truck.  The unplowed driveway was now lacking snow leaving a burning black residue in its place instead.  The feeling was so surreal.

     We would go inside to get warm only to hear knocks at the door of passer-byers informing us that our van was on fire.  It was like a painful reminder of part of our life falling apart and there wasn't anything anyone can do to stop it.  Neighbors would come by to make sure everyone was okay and to watch the devastation unfold before them.  Cars would pull off at a safe distance to watch.  I don't blame them for staring.  It was hard not to look. 

     One small white car was slowly passing by.  You can tell that she was looking at the fire.  Right when she was passing smack dab behind the van something in the van made a small explosion and a loud pop.  It was like our van was giving off a scary "Boo" to the white car.  The car quickly accelerated and kept on driving north.  We couldn't help but laugh.  I think God knew we needed a comic relief break at that time.

     The fire department finally showed up and put out the fire.  By then there was nothing left to the van.  The things that could melt were already melted off.  The steering wheel was gone, parts of the tires were gone, the window's were gone, the seats were all gone.  Our family van was nothing more than a pile of burnt metal. 

Fire Department getting hoses ready to put out the fire.

Elizabeth is looking on from the tree to the right.

Firemen working hard to put the fire out.

A skelton of a car lingers out from the smoke left behind from the flames.

     The fire chief did his job of trying to figure out what caused the fire.  They pointed out that there was a charred area in the hood which gave them the impression that the fire started around the battery area.  They questioned Brian wondering how our finances were and making sure that we didn't purposly start the fire.  Our van was paid off so we just had basic PLPD insurance on it.  If we purposely would of started a car fire we would of torched our non-working full coverage GMC van.  But I am sure they were just doing their job.  When they came to the conclusion that it wasn't deliberate they gave us their theory.  They believe that the van was backfed through the jumper cables.  Basically the batteries in the truck over-charged and the extra energy was fed back through the jumper cables and over heated the van batteries.  We wondered if the new power steering pump malfunctioned causing some of the fluid to spark over onto the battery.  The damage was done and there was nothing more we could do from it. 

The firemen look over the van to establish
cause for the fire.



No steering where, no dashboard, no seats remain from the
blazing inferno. 


     I felt bad for not believing in Elizabeth when she told us she seen smoke.  We should of looked right away when she said she seen smoke.  Brian just came from the outdoors just a few minutes prior.  Fire was the last thing that was on our minds or that one would even start.  I told her that we should of believed her in knowing what she seen.  She looked up at us sadly and said, "I told you I seen smoke." 

     The climax to our troubles was not yet over with.  We look over at the semi which still didn't want to start.  We look over at our GMC which wasn't working and we looked over at our charred Plymouth and realize we are totally without transportation.  Brian had to cancel his run because the Plymouth was smack dab in front of the truck and we couldn't move the van because of the holiday.  We had to wait until January 2nd for the scrap metal place to reopen from the holiday and take the van away.  We ended up towing our other van to the shop to readily get that fixed.  It was a bad start to a new year. 

     We tried to comfort our depression by telling each other that the van was only a 7 seater and we would soon need 8 seats but this would not be the way I would want to get rid of the van.  I was happy to have my husband home to ring in the new year even if it was in horrible circumstances.  Five years later there is still a burned spot in our driveway from where the van caught fire.  Little bits of melted scrap metal pieces lie within the gravel of the driveway.  When I mow near that spot I cannot help but think of that terrible New Year's Eve Day.