WARNING: The following post is not for those with faint hearts or queasy stomachs...
First, a word about what they do. Griffin's is a rendering facility that has been in business for over sixty years. Rendering is also known as "animal recycling". Their primary business concern is to collect inedible animal waste and byproducts and "render" it into usable agribusiness products. In other words, they collect animal guts and bones from slaughterhouses and unused meat scraps from grocery stores. These are then put through a process where they are chopped into small pieces, run through a high pressure steam cooker to remove all water and reduced to the base dry protein. This protein is then packaged and distributed and used for a variety of purposes, primarily as a base component for high-quality livestock feeds and pet food. Next time your in the grocery store, look at the dog food packages. They don't call it "lamb and rice" formula for nothing. Until fairly recently, another huge byproduct of animal rendering was tallow, a waxy substance which was used primarily as a cosmetic base and to make soap. Boiled animal fat mixed with a chemical, usually lye, is how soap was made for centuries. These processes are largely synthesized anymore. They also collect used restaurant fryer grease which is refined to use in a number of products which escape my memory at this time.
Anyway, their transportation operation, which concerns me, is divided into three areas: the grease route drivers, who collect the restaurant grease; the tractor-trailer drivers, who carry the finished product hither and yon; and finally, the meat and bone drivers who collect the "inedible animal byproduct. The "gut-wagon" drivers. My first day out with a driver was on a meat and bone route with an old-timer named Mike who services everything south of the plant which is basically all of Kentucky except northern Kentucky.
Now, we went to nine grocery stores, mostly Kroger's, to pick up their meat scraps and out-of-date product. This was no big deal. The product was in 44-gallon garbage cans on wheels. We rolled them out the back door and onto a hopper on the back of the truck which lifted them up and over the back of the trailer, dumping the contents into the bay. We wash out the can with the pressure washer on the truck, run the empty cans back inside and were on our way. Easy-Peasy-Japanesey.
We also had to go to four slaughterhouses. Yeah. Different story altogether. Same kind of deal, you back up to the place and you have these 55-gallon drums loaded up with heads, intestines, hooves, legs, bones, shit, blood and basically any other part of a cow or hog you don't buy in your grocer's meat department, not to mention a healthy dose of maggots, depending on how long it's been sitting there. It's not that big a deal really. The idea of what's in the drums doesn't bother me a whit. I'll still take my steak gelatinous and a little cool, thank you very much. But, oh my God, the smell!! I can't really describe it.
The first place wasn't too bad. Everything was outside and in the fresh air. Eight or nine drums and we're on our way. The next place was this little slaughterhouse in Lawrenceburg. Their were only about five drums, but they were inside this little outhouse that wasn't quite tall enough for me to stand in. There was no ventilation and the floor was crawling with maggots. I followed Mike in and was immediately overwhelmed by the most god-awful stench you could possibly imagine. And I mean over-whelmed. I couldn't breathe. Breathing meant inhaling more of this odor. My eyes closed up on me. These drums don't have wheels on them. They have to be man-handled to the truck. Mike took one that was piled up over the rim and was struggling to get it out the door. I had no escape. I was stuck behind him. I came as close as I could to throwing up without actually doing it and I still almost yarked all over Mike's back. Even Mike, who has been doing this for over fifteen years, was a little choked up. I finaly got out and away and was able to take a few deep breaths. I may have saved my breakfast, but I lost a little piece of my sanity in that little hut. I'll never forget it till the day I die.
The last two slaughterhouses, one just outside Lancaster and the other in Cynthiana, blessedly, had refrigerated rooms for their product. This delays the decaying and hence, retards the smell. I stiil managed to fall flat on my ass in beef blood in Cynthiana because the barrel was so heavy, I couldn't get the two-wheeler tilted back. And then, to add insult to injury, the very last barrel contained cow hides. The hopper on the back of the trailer has hooks to catch the drum or can to keep it from falling into the bay. One of these hides, hair, fat and all, got hung on this hook and wouldn't shake free. Mike lowered the hopper and we wrestled with this damn hide for about five mintues or so. I finally asked Mike if he had a knife or saw or something. There was a knife in the sidebox and we were able to cut it loose. Then we came back to the plant.
All in all, it was the most vile, repugnant, disgusting thing I have ever done in all my life.
How was it the best day? That afternoon when I got home, I got offered another job to go drive for Coca-Cola in Lexington. Um, yeah, I quit Griffin's the next morning.
Any Question? Any Comments? Be Quiet as You Go...