Contributed by: Steve
We were living on Ninth Street when we bought two bushels of dill pickles. My wife's parents were over helping us can these pickles. The women were cleaning the pickles and it was Grandpa's and my job to fill the jars with pickles and brine and cap them. There was a large kettle of boiling water on the stove and I dumped in the prescribed amount of salt. I did not know that Grandpa had already done so. We didn't realize our mistake until sometime later when we opened a jar. We had the saltiest pickles you can imagine. Grandpa and I thought they were great and we ate our share of them, but the women and kids wouldn't even look at them. Believe it or not, not a single pickle was thrown away. When a jar of bread and butter pickles was gone, I would slice some of those salty pickles into the juice and they were very good. So good, in fact, that even the women and kids ate them that way.