Chicken
Execution 
I was sixteen, in high school, and
vacation was approaching. I made plans with Irving Krasner whom I met and
befriended at the Turn Verein Vorvats (a German gym which later was part of the
German American Bund) That’s another story.
I will stay with an incident during the first year trip. There was
little income for the family and it was a relief for my father if I was not a
burden. We became vagrants on wheels.
That was the year we left to pedal to Niagara Falls. The next year we worked odd jobs and stole produce from farmers,
biked to Florida where we were arrested as vagrants.
I left home with a dollar and twenty
cents. Irv had two dollars and seventy
cents. It was easy biking since we
would hitch on to trucks for most of the way. We selected trucks with tail
gates with chains that rumbled along at some forty miles an hour and we would
hold on to the chains on either side of the truck for many miles. We stole vegetables from roadside farms and
ate what while we camped in a tent I carried in my knapsack.
While pedaling I had noticed that
chickens from adjacent farms would be on the road eating bugs that were killed
on the highway. The chickens would look
in the direction of threatening vehicles and noise and scurry back to
safety. I outlined my plan to Irv. I rode a hundred yards ahead of him singing
and as I approached the chickens would scurry to safety and return after I passed. Irv would be in the distant pedaling slowly and making
noise. The chickens watched him too far
away to be dangerous. I turned my bike
around and raced back into the flock of chickens and managed to hit one and
pick up the stunned bird.
Farther down the road in a quiet spot
we camped, gathered wood and made a fire.
The chicken had recovered and was very much alive. We were hungry. I handed an ax to Irv and told him to kill the chicken so we
could eat it. He refused. I had an idea. I turned my bike upside down.
The chicken clucked as I put the chicken’s head through the rear wheel
spokes and had Irv hold it. I grabbed
the pedal and cranked it. The spokes
guillotined the chicken. Joe dropped
the severed head and gasped while the body fluttered and beat its wings for awhile. I dressed the chicken and roasted it. Irv would not eat. Laden with some guilt, I ate.