It was New Year's Eve and the young bride had a very important task at hand.Mom and Dad had just moved into an upstairs apartment in south Fargo, near St. John's Hospital. Dad had started a job as the head of the department of business education, Concordia College. Salary, $110 per month.
It was Dec. 31, 1941.
Long before you could broadcast an email to update your relatives, folks would send around a big fat envelope to family members, called the Round Robin. When it came in the mail, you would tear it open, spread out and read the news from the rellies, remove your letter from last time (maybe tuck it away for posterity) and promptly replace it with a new one.
The Brown Round Robin was Beverly's obligation that day. She set about to write a suitable letter, then mail the bulging packet to the next Brown addressee.
What to write? Hubby's new job? Nope. How about discussing the sneak attack at Pearl Harbor just three weeks ago? Pass. Christmas doings? Instead, Mom took fountain pen in hand and wrote about an exciting new practice catching on big time in this post-depression era: buying frozen beef in bulk and stashing it in a locker plant.
Now take a breath and let Mom tell it:
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December 31, 1941
Dear Folks,
Erling and I feel pretty smug. Yesterday -- at the advice of some staunch friends -- we went down to the Super Market and bought a quarter of beef at 18 cents a pound -- 93 lbs. and the meat man cut it up exactly as I ordered -- that is, the no. of roasts, and smaller cuts, hamburger, etc. are in 1 lb. packages. We have put it in a cold locker on N.P. Avenue, which costs 50 cents a month. Just for a starter, Erling brought home a sirloin. The meat is the best I've ever tasted.
The Reeds have given us 2 T-bones from their quarter, and when we cooked them they were so tender that we could cut them with a fork -- not bad for 18 cents, eh?
[Click to enlarge images.]
That was what finally prompted us to do it. The Reeds say it cuts grocery bills $2 per person per month. It was $17 for the meat, $3 for 6 mo. storage -- and it will probably last until we leave in the middle of June. Even the soup bones, suet are packaged and labeled. All I have to do is say "Erling, how about a nice T-bone for supper, and a roast for Sunday?" and he can go down and get it. Couldn't you folks get some deal like this and profit by it? Once you have a locker, you can take advantage of chances to get chickens, fish, etc. at a quantity price. The Red Owl here sometimes sells walleyed pike at 5 cents lb. and we'll take advantage of such deals. Maybe in Washburn and Bismarck you can't get chances to do that. Our locker is so full now that we'll have to eat a lot of beef before we can get anything else in it.
Vacation is too surely slipping away and I'm not getting much done. One very pleasant and easy thing we are both doing, however, is catching up on needed sleep. We are both taking vitamins regularly -- for the past 3 or 4 week and we feel so much better -- thanks for your advice. No colds since we started. We are getting Erling nicely conditioned for the Army. I certainly hope Pop gets a better job soon. Perhaps this letter won't even find you at home! but anyway, a happy New Year and may you receive many new blessings in it. Love, Bev and Erling
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Mom kept buying beef in bulk lots for her six kids. Fond memories of accompanying her to the Peterson Locker Plant in Alexandria, where a bracing, yet not unpleasant, odor of brine and blood blended with the scent of cedar shavings spread on the cold concrete floors. In your winter jacket, you'd walk past the blood-splashed butcher cutting chops at his squealing bandsaw, then through the thick door with the huge hinges and handle, and down the narrow frozen aisles to carry back rock-hard packages, randomly rubber-stamped in official tomato red: PORTERHOUSE, RUMP ROAST, CHUCK.
Eventually Mom and Dad brought home a huge upright freezer. Not as romantic, but more convenient. Mom was still enthused about buying her "half of a half," from some favorite local butcher,
which meant you got some cuts from the front of the cow and some from its other end.And Mom's crack about getting Dad conditioned for the Army? Didn't happen. He got as far as Fort Snelling. They rejected him and sent him back to Beverly on a train. Guess all those vitamins and all that beef didn't quite get the job done.
And, by the way, Mom's dear old Pop did get a better job.
