Parked a couple miles outside the city limits in a cow pie infested pasture lays my grandpa’s trailer. When I first walked up to the trailer, it was nothing like I had imagined. I always pictured it as a tiny trailer …show more content…
This is what they referred to as the killing room, although I’m not sure why since it was not actually a separate room, but just a corner of the trailer blocked off by a single wall. Two men manned the killing station. Chris, who takes care of the killing, grabs the chickens from the yellow crate and puts them one by one in the cones. The chicken’s head pokes out of the cone just enough so he can cut it off. The blood drips down into a trench at the bottom of the contraption. By the time Chris gets all the way around the ring the first chicken is done dripping and goes straight into the scalding tank. The tank gets to around 170 degrees Fahrenheit. It can only fit 4 at a time. I accidently lean up against the wall and Dawnelle says, “you probably shouldn’t do that. We wipe down the wall with oil so it’s easier to wash all the blood off”. I instantly stand up. In the corner, I see a rather large tube with rubber prongs sticking out of it. Once they are in there the prongs massage the chicken so most of the feathers come off. There is a sink right next to it where one of the Hispanic ladies cuts off the feet and necks. That ends the killing process and she passes it through a somewhat medium sized window where the sorting process