Here is an article by Dave Gifford of Trinity College in
Hartford, Connecticut, USA.  It was published in "The Forum",
the school's student newspaper:

A Visit to a Slaughterhouse

     "When the suggestion was made that I visit a slaughterhouse to
observe first-hand blatant infractions upon the rights of animals,
I was very skeptical.  The reason for my skepticism was that I felt
a slaughterhouse did not present an example of cruelty far enough
removed from everyday life to be poignant or relevant in a
discussion of animal rights.  I felt that I should be writing on
something a little more esoteric or something considered cruel or
immoral, such as the clubbing to death of baby seals.  I was
gravely mistaken.  And the fact that what goes on inside a
slaughterhouse is done because of the demand the vast majority of
the American public has for the flesh of other living beings makes
it all the more poignant and relevant.

     "There is no convenient escape from guilt by association for
what goes on inside a slaughterhouse as there is from the case of
the baby seals in the Arctic.  While it is easy for most of us to
refrain from purchasing the goods for which seals were slain --
thus incurring no guilt for their deaths - -- most people willingly
(and thoughtlessly) eat the flesh of one type of animal or another
whose life has been terminated within the walls of a
slaughterhouse.

 -

     "As I stepped from my car in the parking lot of the packing
plant, the combination of sounds and smells emanating from the
corrugated metal structure made me question whether or not this was
something I really wanted to go through with. The first thing to
hit my senses was the sound of cattle --not the pleasant bucolic
mooing one might hear on a stroll down a country lane next to a
small farm, but a rapid, frantic mooing.  It was the kind of mooing
I heard during a weekend stay at my uncle's dairy farm when one of
the cows was attacked by stray dogs.  Aside from the noise, the
release of adrenaline in her body made the cow drool, and caused
her nose to run so profusely that she briefly had difficulty
breathing. At that moment in the parking lot, I could only sense
discomfort in the sound of the cows, but later I discovered that
each one awaiting slaughter in the chute leading to the "killing
stall" was suffering the same symptoms of terror I witnessed at my
uncle's farm.

     "The second thing I noticed was also a sound. As I walked
toward the building, I heard the strange muffled whine that can
only come from a saw cutting bone still encased in flesh. At this
point I realized that I was not prepared for what I was about to
experience.  That feeling was intensified to the point of nausea
when, as I walked closer, I caught my first whiff of the
combination of smells that I would have to endure for the next few
hours: the oddly sickening odor of newly slaughtered flesh still so
warm from the life so recently removed that steam rises from it;
the not so oddly nauseating stench of the sausage and hot dog meat
boilers; and the quiet, cold reeking of flesh hanging, carcass
after carcass, row upon row, in the freezer storage area.  My
imagination had prepared me a little bit for the visual experience,
but I was entirely unprepared for the almost unbearable smell that
permeated the entire plant.

     "After brief "pleasantries" with Jerry, the production manager
of the plant, I was allowed to proceed through the building
unguided and at my own pace.  I began the tour "where it all
starts", as Jerry put it, in the "kill shed".

     "I entered the kill shed through a short, tunnel-like hall
through which I could see what I soon learned was the third
butchering station.  The kill shed consisted of one room in which a
number of operations are performed by one or two of six butchers at
four stations along the length of the room. In the kill shed there
is also a United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) inspector
who examines parts of every animal who goes through the kill shed.

     "The first station is the killing station.  It is worked by
one man whose job is to herd the animal into the killing stall,
slaughter him or her, and begin the butchering process. This stage
of the process takes about ten minutes for each animal, and begins
with the opening of a heavy steel door that separates the killing
stall from the waiting chute.  The man working this station must
then go into a corridor adjacent to the waiting chute, and prod his
next victim into the killing stall with a high-voltage electric
cattle prod.  This is the most time-consuming part of the operation
because the cattle are fully aware of what lies ahead, and are
determined not to enter the killing stall.  The physical symptoms
of terror were painfully evident on the faces of each and every
animal I saw either in the actual killing stall or in the waiting
chute. During the 40 seconds to a minute that each animal had to
wait in the killing stall before losing consciousness, the terror
became visibly more intense. The animal could smell the blood, and
see his or her former companions in various stages of
dismemberment.  During the last few seconds of life, the animal
thrashes about the stall as much as its confines allow. All four of
the cows whose deaths I witnessed strained frantically, futilely,
and pathetically towards the ceiling --the only direction that was
not blocked by a steel door. Death came in the form of a pneumatic
nail gun that was placed against their heads and fired.

     "The gun is designed so that the nail never completely leaves
the gun, but simply is blown into the animal's head and then pulled
out by the butcher as the animal collapses.  Three of the four
times I saw it used, it did the job on the first try, but one cow
struggled a good deal after collapsing. After the animal has
collapsed, the side of the killing stall is raised, and a chain is
secured to the right hind leg.  The cow is then hoisted by that one
leg to a hanging position.  At this point, the butcher drains the
body of blood by slitting the cow's throat.  When the blood vessels
are severed, there is an amazing torrent of blood so profuse that
the butcher is unable to step aside fast enough to avoid being
covered with it. This steaming torrent of blood lasts only about 15
seconds, after which the only task left to the man at the first
station is to skin and remove the animal's head.

     "At the second station in the kill shed, the headless animal
is dropped to the floor.  The body is propped up on the back and
relieved of hooves and, if female, milk sack and udders. At this
time, any urine and feces that didn't drain from the body during
the first few seconds of death now pour freely onto the floor.  The
body is then slit down the middle, and the hide is peeled partially
away.  A yoke is then hooked to the stumps of the hind legs, the
body is lifted upwards, and the rest of the hide is pulled past a
roller secured to the floor and peeled off. The animal's body is
now at the third station of the kill shed where it is gutted and
then sawed in half -- becoming two "sides of beef".

     "The sides of beef are sprayed down and weighed at the fourth
and final station of the kill station.  They are then placed in the
cooling locker where the residual warmth of life steams away slowly
in preparation for the deep-freeze storage locker. From the cooling
locker, the meat goes into a main storage area where it is kept for
as long as a week.  This locker exits to a butchering area where
the sides of beef are reduced to parts for the supermarket which
end up on dining room tables.

     "The final stop on my tour was the sausage and hot dog
production facilities. It is often said that if you could see what
goes into a hot dog, you'd never eat one eat one again. Well that
adage applies tenfold to the production of sausage. The most
violently nauseating smell that I have ever experienced was the
odor wafting up from the sausage meat boiling vats.

     "As I left the complex, I was embarrassed about my previous
skepticism, and I encourage anyone who has any of the doubts that I
once possessed to make a visit to a slaughterhouse or spend a day
at a factory farm. I think it would become clear that there has to
be better way to feed ourselves, and that it is our duty as moral
beings to pursue the alternatives.

(Dave Gifford is a student at Trinity College in Hartford,
Connecticut, USA)

Jai Maharaj
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Om Shanti