Running Like Clock-Wurst

[imgbelt img=wurstbratentshirt320.jpg]The whole town has 250 people. So how does one church in Walburg, Texas, serve dinner for 4400 without a hitch?


“As you have seen around here, everybody is doing something,” says Ray Mickan, counting back change at the table set up for selling fresh sausage at $4 a pound. “And that’s not just from today, that’s from last year’s experience, the year before, ten years. Everybody knows that it takes a lot of work, and they plan on delivering that work ethic.”

That sounds pretty stern, but the mood is calm. Faces are happily intent. People are working. It’s all working. Nobody’s calling directions. There’s no need, as everyone’s seems to know just what to do and to enjoy doing it. Carroll Fuchs says that finding a role in the event and jumping in, assured that there’s a solid team working with you, is “what’s so attractive about Wurstbraten. We’ve got a lot of the old timers and then it’s rubbing off on the new folks.”

“We started the second line without your permission but we saw your wife and she said it was okay,” someone says to Fuchs as he strides past.

“Go for it,” he replies.

The meal at Wurstbraten officially starts at 5 p.m., but after 39 years, the crowds know better. They begin showing up about 3:30 and by 5 p.m. the whole gymnasium is full. Tickets in hand, people are queued all the way down the school hallway, as more trickle in through the front door of the church, each one greeted by Evangeline Daniell. Someone’s playing hymns in the choir loft, on an organ that proceeds from another Wurstbraten bought. And on FM 1105 the line of traffic in both directions reaches as far as the eye can see.