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Posted by Jennifer Whiteman , 24 January 2011 · 1510 views

One of our retired missionaries just sent in some old photos from their family's time at Nyack - what was formerly known as the Missionary Training Institute. Aside from their regular studies, a handful of students worked for the college...probably to help supplement the tuition fee. (According to the Missionary Training Institute Catalogue from 1918, room and board was $200 for the whole school year...and tuition was a whopping $20!)

As I was glancing through old faces from the 1910s, there was a series of photos that captured the kitchen staff hard at work. In our day and age of processed everything, it's hard for me to imagine a time when this was normal! I guess this could have been considered 'training' for the mission field as some of our early missionaries surely had to work at least this hard to prepare their food.

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  • Attached Image: MTI Cooks.jpg





Debbie Schermerhorn
Jan 24 2011 01:49 PM
Great image from the past!

My mother told me how as late as the 1950s, some families still raised and slaughtered chickens for food. She told me how she and her mom had a mishap and cut a chicken's head a little too high up on the neck and the headless bird jumped up and ran away from them. They later noticed it scratching and "pecking" at grain along with the rest of the chickens as if noting was wrong. She also said that was when her family stopped raising chickens for the dinner table.
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Ruthie Hankins
Jan 26 2011 09:13 AM
Deb, that's where we get the phrase "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off"! After reading your discription, I don't want to be like that. I love the photo.
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Great picture, Jenn! That is too funny, Deb! Yuck!!
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My mom would buy a crate or two of live chickens and store them in the garage until slaughter day--usually just a night or two. This was in the sixties when i was a little girl. I hated the killing day because the chicken's would scream and my mom would smell like bleach at the end of the day. Once we had red Koolaid in the refrigerator on a killing day and couldn't drink red Koolaid anymore after that day. Too much of a reminder of the rinsing bucket for the dead chickens.
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In Gabon (and not that long ago) it was a highlight for our kids. We'd wait to see how far the chicken ran before it keeled over. It was the feather plucking that was THE WORST PART! I have to admit - our African friend did that for me!
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