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Connection Beyond Consumerism

Trouser Bark

One of the Regulars
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I exist in your head
Several can recall the first leather jacket they tried on.

Several may be able to recall having seen a first leather jacket they liked enough to spend money on.

I'm guessing that for some there's another connection to the industry (or hobby as I've heard it referred to here) that might be interesting. Please share a peek into your first exposure. None need be epic but a glimpse would be appreciated. I'll share mine / you share yours.

When I was a boy my father was a general contractor and a carpenter at heart. Some friends of our family owned a tannery and my family would go to their house on occasion for dinner or the kind of visit that was more common prior to the internet. The first time we had dinner at their house was more than a half century ago. A whole salmon cleaned, beheaded, and with a lemon sliced up and inserted in the cavity. It was wrapped in foil with salt and pepper then stuffed into the coals in the fireplace at their log home. It was many years before I realized that would be an experience that few elsewhere might ever experience for themselves.

The tannery was separate from the house and had to be. When you walk into a tannery there's a smell that hits you like a version of 'somebody needs to wipe the baby's ass' but with an edge that only fermentation and chemistry can provide. The first time I walked into the place l was around 12 and fighting to keep my stomach from going off the reservation. The owner walked up from somewhere toward the back and was eating a box of raisins. Most of what I recall in the vats was seal but there were also wolf, lynx, and a few other hides would come through the place as well. I recall one polar bear. The owner liked to share and though I never worked there he taught me how to run some of the equipment and I could wander the place as if it were mine. One machine would remove guard hairs such that the finished pelt would look and feel better to the touch. It seemed to be a planer of sorts to me and to this day I have no idea what the internal mechanism was that allowed it to grab only the guard.

My father built new vats to replace the older ones that had seen better days. When you think of a vat note that it's not like a tub. These looked something like giant wooden wire and cable reels oriented vertically and elevated off the slab so they could rotate on a hubbed center axis. Picture two giant flanges maybe 4' apart and the span between the two flanges was also wooden (slats) and very tightly fitting so once the wood had gotten wet and swelled the vats didn't leak. They'd turn for days and I rarely recall them not moving but to load or unload. There were doors in the sides of the flanges that allowed you to toss hides in or pull them out. All hides left the shop w/ hair on them and the amount of chemical in the vats filled only roughly a foot of depth in what was a roughly 10' diameter vat.

If there were an aspect of learning about the place that took the most getting used to it would have been bringing in skins from behind the shop. Hunters would come by and throw their hides in piles behind the building and through some kind of telephone voodoo the owner always knew who's pile belonged to whom. The hides would arrive with a layer of fat on the inner side of the skin and in winter they'd be frozen to each other. In summer they'd be crawling with whatever liked to eat fat. If you've ever tugged on something that seemed fixed in place and had to give it a good yank you may have had a bit of that stuff fly into your mouth. You naturally tried to spit whatever flew in back out. That's how it worked behind the building but in summer time whatever flew off the pile and into your mouth would impart an acquired taste and sometimes it would be moving. You learned to yank with your mouth shut and breathe through your nose. At some point the smells that might have previously made you curiously uncomfortable became fine.

I never worked there. I was just the family friend's kid that had rooted all through the place and was shown how everything worked by an old fart that was kinder than many are to kids..

That was my earliest connection to the trade. Interestingly, at the time spotted fur seal jackets were commonly seen. Now you can go years w/out seeing one.
 
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Trouser Bark

One of the Regulars
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Good story. Thanks for sharing.


My pleasure. I'll add a couple other aspects that are part and parcel but that no one would ever normally ponder unless they were in the shop.

A couple examples from a time far enough back that my memory is now selective about the bits I recall:

- As a kid running around in the tannery you saw aspects of the customer that would force you to come to an impression of the hunter. One was a bear that had clearly been run on a snow machine and worn down. The hide had many .22 holes in it and as a kid it was difficult to respect anyone that would think that's ok. In private moments I occasionally hoped that guy's end might be similar.

- The owner was the kind of man that would not fit in an urban environment very well. Eclectic, honest and trusting to a fault, he was also inclined to try some things that you might not. He always had a project that seemed like it might not be the best idea and in one he built a helicopter and decided to learn to fly it by tethering it on a ten or fifteen foot rope and figuring out the controls close enough to the ground that he supposedly wouldn't get to scuffed up when the machine got out of hand.

- Another interesting aspect was the kind of guy that would come in w/ a pelt or two. Usually it was a seasoned hunter but there are always a few that are learning. Wolves were not uncommon and one guy brought a wolf in to be tanned. Dead or alive a wolf has a specific look to it that makes it identifiable quickly and if it's not the overall size that's a first clue it's the way the animal's forelegs are shaped and the size and shape of its head. This particular man brought in a 100% dog. It looked a lot like a German Shepherd to me and was definitely not a wolf. He got his wolf hide tanned all the same though and probably put it on his wall for others to admire.

- In years since I've occasionally wondered what exactly the fluid was in those vats. I've wondered where it wound up as well. No clue there but I'd be a little surprised if it were completely biodegradable. Not much thought went into that kind of thing at the time. I recall a woman that would drive up on the empty lot next to our house and crawl underneath her car to remove the oil drain plug. She'd let it all sploooge out on the ground and then drive the car ahead w/ no oil until she found a spot w/ enough room to squeeze under the car again and reinstall the drain plug and refill the crankcase. I'd imagine there was something similar in the handling of whatever tanning fluids were used. Never knew though.
 

Tom71

Call Me a Cab
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Thanks for sharing!

Upon reading, my mind is flooded with images galore. The family-friend described sounds like a character straight out of a Cormack McCarthy novel (think "Border trilogy").
From a time long lost that always leaves a strange longing although we know that the "good old times" had just been the "old times"...

You are a good storyteller!
 

semolina_pilchard

A-List Customer
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343
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Really enjoyed reading your posts @Trouser Bark. Thanks for sharing!

Reading them reminded me of my Grandfather. He told me so many stories about his youth and our hometown from the 30s onwards. I could listen to him for hours. He had such a great way of telling that lit up the imagination. I wish he had written a book of it all.
 

bigmanbigtruck

A-List Customer
Messages
320
- Another interesting aspect was the kind of guy that would come in w/ a pelt or two. Usually it was a seasoned hunter but there are always a few that are learning. Wolves were not uncommon and one guy brought a wolf in to be tanned. Dead or alive a wolf has a specific look to it that makes it identifiable quickly and if it's not the overall size that's a first clue it's the way the animal's forelegs are shaped and the size and shape of its head. This particular man brought in a 100% dog. It looked a lot like a German Shepherd to me and was definitely not a wolf. He got his wolf hide tanned all the same though and probably put it on his wall for others to admire.
As a dog lover, this made me sad...
 

Trouser Bark

One of the Regulars
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I exist in your head
As a dog lover, this made me sad...

I get that. Here's a pic of my buddy Popeye to make some of that go away.

The bear was worse though. There's no coup de' grâce for a 600+ pound animal when you're packing a .22
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Trouser Bark

One of the Regulars
Messages
105
Location
I exist in your head
Thanks for sharing!

Upon reading, my mind is flooded with images galore. The family-friend described sounds like a character straight out of a Cormack McCarthy novel (think "Border trilogy").
From a time long lost that always leaves a strange longing although we know that the "good old times" had just been the "old times"...

Thank you, Sir. You are too kind and yeah, I was bummed when we all found out that Cormack would write no more.



Really enjoyed reading your posts @Trouser Bark. Thanks for sharing!

Reading them reminded me of my Grandfather. He told me so many stories about his youth and our hometown from the 30s onwards. I could listen to him for hours. He had such a great way of telling that lit up the imagination. I wish he had written a book of it all.

I'm honored to be an echo of your Grandfather if just for a moment. Thank you.
 

Trouser Bark

One of the Regulars
Messages
105
Location
I exist in your head
This from last night. There was a time when I would've thought these belonged in a vat. Now I just wish they were somewhere else. They'll trash whatever's on your porch and as an example both of those wooden 1/2 barrels had 20g of water in them and a couple dozen minnows. They drank all 20 gallons from the closest barrel and ate all of the fish.

Popeye lets you know on trash day if one's hanging in the brush watching. That's his thing.


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