Experience Friday - The Corn Boil

 

Experience Friday

The Corn Boil

One of the most significant events of the summer in my home town was the Annual Corn Boil the Lindenwood Volunteer Fire Department put on. It was a way for the Firemen to give back to the community. Lindenwood is a small town in Northern Illinois of about 500 people. It is surrounded by some of the best farmland in the area. No matter which direction you head, you will have crops on both sides of the road as you drive. I could see corn growing from my own bedroom window.

As a young boy growing up in a simple life, the chance to help out at the fire department was always something I jumped at. My father was an Engineer with the department, and when it was his turn to take care of the trucks, I was always there to help. When it was time to mow the lawn in the summer, I would also be there to help. And when it was time to drive the trucks around, I make sure I was there to ride along. After all, who wouldn't want to ride in a fire truck? Especially when I got to operate the lights and siren.

The corn boil was a simple event, and its focus was sweet corn. It usually took place in mid-August near the end of the sweet corn season in Illinois. On the morning of the event, several of us would meet at the fire department to go with our fathers to pick a truckload of corn. One of the men would clean out the bed of there pick up, so we had plenty of room for corn. The problem was not finding corn since Lindenwood is surrounded by some of the best sweetcorn anywhere.

I was up every morning at 5:00 a.m. since my brother and I delivered the local newspaper around the town. After we were done, we would catch a couple more hours of sleep and then get up for an excellent breakfast before hopping on our bikes are heading down to the station to help. The trucks were outside, and the men were at work cleaning the inside of the station.

The discussion was then where to go get the corn. As mentioned above, that was pretty easy with all the fields around. We would hop into several trucks and head out to a field. In those days, we would ride in the bed of the trucks as we headed out on our task. Soon we stopped, and everyone grabbed a 5 gallon bucket to fill with ears of sweet corn. It took a while to pick enough to fill the entire pick up truck, but we did. Once that truck was full, it was driven back to town to sit in the shade until we were ready to shuck it.

The next target was the tomato farm of Harry Ross. He always let us stop by his fields to pick a dozen buckets of tomatoes. The wives of the firemen would be busy at home, making different side dishes for the corn boil, coleslaw, potato salad, cucumber salad. The morning activities ended at about 10:00 a.m. or so. The trucks were sitting outside, and the station was wide open. The corn sat in the shade of two large trees waiting to be shucked.

The firemen set up the large cauldron to start heating water. It was filled with water and would eventually heat to a raging boil. The corn was placed into a large basket and lowered into the water. Myself and my friends, Brian, Kevin, Scott, Randy, my brother Craig, and his friend Kenny, would shuck the corn and put it into boxes. The husks were then thrown into an empty truck parked next to the one full of corn. Of course, we always were told we did not get the silk off the corn good enough. We did, but we were always told we didn't. My sister Lorri her friend Rachelle would stop by to help, but that didn't last long.

One of the side benefits of shucking corn was we each would receive an ice-cold beer. We would each get one of the small 8oz bottle of beer that one of the firemen had bought earlier in the day. Yeah, we all felt like big shots when we had those. While the corn was being shucked, some other tasks needed to be done. Setting up tables, getting the supplies from the local store, and picking up the other food made around town.

The menu was straightforward, sweet corn, hot dogs, tomatoes, coleslaw, potato salad, and cucumber salad. It never failed that we had lovely weather for the event as well. Of course, before the first townspeople arrived, we had already tested a basket of corn and a grill full of hot dogs. Each basket of hot corn was dumped on one of the serving tables, and people would take it from the pile. One pound blocks of butter were set at the end of the table, and all you had to do was roll the hot corn on it to give it a nice even coat.

It was a great time. We got to sit around, eat as much as we wanted, and enjoy the company. As it grew darker and the number of people dropped off, the ladies around town would get baskets full of corn so they could freeze it for winter. Each basket held more than enough for any household to have enough sweet corn to last the winter. We never bought canned or frozen corn from the supermarket when I was growing up. Sharp knives and freezer boxes were the tools needed that night. This was work for my mom. We would take the boxes when full and put them in the freezer.

Back at the station, the men would have put away the tables and cleaned up the station. The truck full of husks and corn cobs would be driven out to one of the local farms to be given to the hogs. Slowly the firemen would return home as would all the kids. This was one night when being up past 10:00 p.m. was allowed. My brother and I usually would not make it that late since we had to be back up the next morning to deliver the papers.

I always looked forward to the corn boil each year. It was fun to help out and act like a big shot to all the younger kids around town. One year I was given one of the cherished jobs, hot dog griller, now that was fun.