George and Louise soon moved to Covington.  It is likely that George sold meat products at the 6th Street open air market before opening his own shop in the 600 block of Main Street.  Soon, in 1876, however, the couple had their own home and shop built at 824 Main Street.  At that time, all the land between them and Dixie Highway was a cornfield.

They built a smokehouse and workroom behind the store.

When it was time to slaughter hogs, usually in the cold days of Autumn, Winter, and Spring, it was traditional that the women would tend to cooking goetta in large cast iron kettles.  The men would cure and salt whatever cuts of meat that could not be sold fresh.  Thus, it is likely that the original Finke's goetta recipe belonged to Louise.  Family lore says the kettle was used for the laundry on days when goetta was not being produced.

They raised their nine children at St. Aloysius Parish in Covington.  Sadly, George died in 1888, the year their youngest child was born.  Louise continued running the store.  Even though she received help from the the firefighters across the street when beef shipments came in, it was said she could handle a side of beef as well as any man.

It seems the whole family was involved in the business and helped it expand.  My great-grandfather, George II, drove a wagon through the city selling meat and groceries door - to - door. Despite it's popularity in German neighborhoods, George had no luck selling goetta in Irish neighborhoods.  One day, an Irish housewife asked him what it was.  He replied, "Irish Mush!" She decided to try it and it became popular throughout the neighborhood!

In a tragic end, Louise was struck by a car on a rainy night as she returned home from services at St. Aloysius in 1930.  She did not survive her injuries.

George Jr. and his wife, Frances Beutter,  had seven sons and five daughters.  The oldest, Henry, opened his own store on E. 12th street. His son, Robert (Bob or "Spike") had a door-to-door delivery truck until his death in the 1970's.

Their second son, Elmer ("Mike"), took over the Main Street Store. His story follows below.

Their third son was  my grandfather, Eugene.  His story is further below.

George II's son, Mike, took over the store at Louise's passing.  He continued the goetta making tradition.  In fact, in a front page article in The Kentucky Post by Howard Raver, "Talk About Goetta, You 'Getta' Finke" (Feb. 25, 1957), Mike is reported to produce more goetta than any other business in Covington.  He is shown mixing a batch in that same iron kettle and prepping some goetta "ropes" for smoking.

In his 2019 book, Cincinnati Goetta, A Delectable History, https://www.amazon.com/Cincinnati-Goetta-Delectable-History-American/dp/1467142085, Dann Woellert describes Gourmet Brand Goetta as "The Other Finke Goetta."  

My story begins when my grandfather, Eugene,  began his career in the meat business in his 30's.  Laid off near the beginning of the depression, with a wife (Gertrude) and  three children to raise, he approached a local meat supplier (HH Meyer?).  He proposed selling their meat door - to - door in the Park Hills and Ft. Wright neighborhoods in exchange for a loan to buy a delivery truck. The Finke reputation was such that the deal was "signed" with a handshake.  The loan was paid off within that year.

Gene originally ran the business from his home on Riedlin Avenue in Covington.  Incidently, that home was razed to make room for the new Kenton County Courthouse parking lot.  The Courthouse was once the Bavarian Brewing Company.  Grandpa rented refrigerated space from the brewery in those early days.

After the 1937 flood reached the first floor of the Riedlin home, Eugene moved the family to Altavia Avenue in Park Hills.  His brothers Mike and Henry already lived there. At the Altavia property, Gene expanded his business to include curing Kentucky (dry cured "country") ham and making breakfast sausage.  From  the 1940's into the 1960's, he supplied the homes of Ft. Wright and Park Hills as well as restaurants with fine meats, including his own Kentucky ham and breakfast sausage. Before the interstate, Dixie Highway restaurants like the Golden Goose, the White Horse Tavern, the Lookout House, Oelsner's Tavern, the Hearthstone, and  Southern Trails kept Grandpa busy.

Finke meat businesses were always a family affair.  Gene's second son, Eugene George Jr. ("Hink" - why are so many Finkes not known by their given  names?), was being prepared to take over the delivery truck when he graduated Covington Catholic High School.  World War II and a German bullet ended those plans. Gene's oldest son, Ray, who  stayed stateside during the war, returned from the Army Aircorps to take over the door to door business.

In the 60's then, Gene was curing hams and making sausage and goetta  for his restaurant customers, Ray's truck, Spike's truck, and Bill and Jim's store, but he was ready to "retire."

I was not yet one year old in 1965. My Dad, Richard ("Dick") had tried a few careers, but was not happy with any. Grandpa offered to sell Dad the homestead on Altavia, and the ham and sausage business.  Grandpa moved next door and helped Dad and Ray while continuing to make goetta. Dad made sausage in the basement and salted hams in the "stable," a cleaned up addition to the garage that used to shelter his horse when he was a boy.

My mom,  Alma, with her training as a bookkeeper, supported Dad with the new business.  She struggled a bit, sharing Dad with her in-laws as the demands of the three businesses operated out of some part of our home.

In 1967, Dad tore down the "stable" that was attached to the garage.  The garage housed many things: a wooden walk-in ice box converted to a refrigerator,  up to 1000 hams aged to perfection (see photo above), and the family/business vehicle (at that time a 1966 VW bus).  He had a two room building constructed.  I remember playing in the muddy trench that was dug for the footers. 

There was a refrigerated room for curing hams with a built in smokehouse and another refrigerated room for making sausage. 

The late 60's and early 70's were a wonderful time for me.  My grandparents lived next door.  Besides the usual treats a grandkid might expect, I was able to sample goetta right out of the pot.  Grandpa had progressed to aluminum stock pots, not the cast iron his grandma had used. The house had an acre of woods behind it and many more acres next to that. Grandpa marked the trees so that if we moved from mark to mark, we'd always find our way home. He took us fishing and beagling (allowing the beagles to track rabbits without actually killing them).

Dad and Mom were always home, even when Dad was "out back" working. There were many family outings and many gatherings of extended family.

Grandma Gert died in 1972. She had been a great emotional support to both Grandpa and Dad. Grandpa remarried and moved to Erlanger, but continued to make goetta for Bill & Jim's store and a few other customers. I missed seeing him everyday.

Without Grandpa's help, and with restaurants along Dixie Highway closing due to increased interstate traffic, the ham business was struggling.  For the time being, however, the sausage business was thriving. Dad decided to make sausage exclusively.

Around the same time, Kentucky transferred its meat inspection role to the USDA.  Dad's operations were now subject to Federal inspection. 

Uncle Ray decided to quit home delivery of meat. As more women entered the work force, they were not home to purchase meat from his truck. He became a USDA meat inspector.

The 1973 oil embargo had a huge effect on the sausage business.  As transportation prices went up, pork prices increased. People travelled less and were tightening their belts in general. They ate out less. Restaurants were looking to cut costs, and Dad's margins started shrinking.

Dad tried to make up for the lost income by selling more sausage.  He added new customers. Some were "Mom & Pop" restaurants.  A larger volume customer was the Drawbridge Inn. Another two were independent LaRosa's pizzerias. Eventually there seven. To get these customers, Dad had to slice his sausage into patties and pack it into boxes. It became a Monday and Tuesday night routine.  My brother, Paul, and I became his first packers.  Eventually our sisters, Terri, Jenny, Becky and Amy, took over.  The extra work took a toll. Ten hour days became 12 hour days. Five and a half day work weeks became 6 or 6 1/2 day work weeks. Unfortunately, total income was not increasing, but we were working together as a family, and Dad was still able to work from home.

After Grandpa died, the family goetta making reverted to Bill & Jim at the store.  Dad had lots of time working alone and lots of time to think.  Apparently, he spent a lot of that time thinking about goetta. Dad had an uncanny ability to imagine (quite accurately) how a change here or there would affect the taste of a recipe.  He had already perfected the sausage recipe.

It was in the 80's that he began making his version of goetta. From the beginning it was excellent - an improvement over what Grandpa had made. That was quite a feat in itself.  Dad was not satisfied with better; he wanted the best. Every batch he made for the next seven years was an experiment. He would tweak one thing:  a little more this or a little less that, a different cut of pork, a different grind, etc.

Each evening he would fry up a sample. I was a stupid college kid. When Dad asked my opinion, I usually responded, "Tastes great Dad, just like last night." If I had any foresight, I would have listened as he described the nuanced improvement (or disappointment) in each batch. I have a very fond memory of the night when he announced, "It's not perfect, but it's the best I can do!"