Chickens in Town
We moved to town in 1939, after having spent three years on the farm trying to keep it going without Dad. He had passed away in 1936. Being used to having chickens on the farm, we were happy to get three chickens given to us by a sister who lived on the farm. Not having a chicken coop, we kept them in a small room in the garage. The plan was for Mother to butcher them from time to time as we needed them.
One day these chickens escaped from the garage, as we might have expected. Our job was to catch them and return them to their little "pen" in the garage, before they got lost in the neighborhood. We lived behind the Pine Grove Cemetery and there was a chain link fence between our lot and the cemetery. As we tried to catch the chickens, we chased them over to the fence, planning to corner them there. By this time my two nephews and their dad, who lived next door had come to help Mother and me. All five of us, crouching real low, slowly and quietly guided them to the fence, where we hoped to descend on them and capture them. When we had them real close to the fence, we'd pounce on them, and all three chickens would fly up over our heads, squawking and cackling and be free again. Over and over we went through this same procedure. Again and again the chickens regained their freedom.
We never did catch these chickens by our plan, but somehow we rescued them so they wouldn't run away or get killed by traffic on nearby Grand Avenue. Since Mother was planning to butcher these chickens anyway, once we caught them, they were not long for this world anymore. She killed them right away and made chicken soup, so this could not happen again.
We had chickens another time, and this caused all sorts of problems. Before long we had rats that came after the chicken feed. Now rats were not easy to contend with. One afternoon Mother decided to get rid of some of the rats, and enlisted my sister Esther to help her. There were so many that it was not hard for Esther to clamp one under a stick, while Mother clubbed it to death. I don't know how many rats they killed this way, but they did succeed to some extent, even though Esther was crying before it was all over. She had been enlisted against her better judgment, and didn't want any part of this bloody massacre. Hadn't Mother ever heard of D-Con or other rat poison? I don't know, but this was the end of the chickens and eventually the end of the rats too.