I can remember one cold winter day when I heard a terrible scream and I asked my mother what it was...she said it was 'daddy' and uncle OD killing and butchering a hog. The coldest days were the best for butchering because of the lack of insects.
In the late 50s I remember walking past a poultry shop in the city and seeing the blood rolling out of the place, across the sidewalk, and into the street. People would just step over it as they walked past. They didn’t need refrigeration since they would kill the chicken or turkey right there in the shop when you bought it.
Then there was that monster coal furnace in the basement. Dad and the older brothers would shovel it out of the coal bin into it and haul the ashes out. All I got to do was watch the coal man shovel it into the basement through the window. Then one day some guys came and put in one of those little gas furnaces. Before that, the smell of coal burning was thick in the air in the winter.
There were still older guys who drove a cart pulled by a horse in the street along with the cars and buses. Junk men, vegetable guys, etc. Real hobos would stop on our street and some people would give them something to eat as they walked from one railroad line to another.
Those were some interesting days as new replaced the old.