150 years later, meat falls from the sky again in this Kentucky county

More than 600 people watched the skies over Bath County late Saturday afternoon as tiny bits of meat fell to the ground. When they landed, onlookers strolled down the hill of Tom Byron’s property to retrieve them.

The event was the closing ceremony of the Kentucky Meat Shower Festival, which commemorated the strange events of March 3, 1876, in the nearby Bath County town of Olympia Springs. What fell that day on the property of Mrs. Rebecca Crouch (some accounts say one piece landed on her face before she raced inside her home with her grandson) may never be known.

What’s for certain is the source was far different and much less sanitary than the 1,876 mini-meat sticks dropped by a small plane Saturday. The bits of grass-fed beef were packaged in plastic, with each end serving as a helicopter blade of sorts to ensure no one lost an eye.

The consensus about the 1876 Kentucky meat shower?

One member of a kettle of vultures approaching the Crouch property high above was startled and, as they are prone to do, regurgitated a recent meal. Other members, as they are also prone to do, followed suit.

Saturday’s festival in the county seat of Owingsville began at noon in the courthouse square and featured food trucks offering various “mystery meat” concoctions and a series of games like a bologna roll-off, meat tosses (think egg tosses) and paper airplane (called “vultures” by festival director Ian Corbin) throw-offs.

Transylvania University professor Kurt Gohde brought what’s believed to be the final piece of meat from the 1876 meat shower for well-attended presentations in the Bath County History Museum.

Gohde said DNA testing on the small chunk of meat several years ago was inconclusive because it was too contaminated, but suggested a possible meal for at least one vulture.

“The longest strain (of DNA) there was closest to goat,” Gohde said.

Next to Gohde was a mannequin portraying Rebecca Crouch with her right arm raised to the sky as if she was welcoming, rather than dodging, the next chunk of tissue.

On Main Street, Bath County native Ann Gordon Coyle, 84, was accompanied by five generations of her family. She said the meat shower wasn’t often discussed when she was a child.

“The only thing I knew — they wouldn’t say it came from any birds or anything,” Coyle said. “They just said the poor woman was outside. … I don’t want anybody to ask me if I remember it. I don’t.”

Gina Young and Nicci Smith of Lexington brought children to attend the festival and hear Mick Sullivan, author of the children’s book “The Meatshower,” read the colorfully illustrated story to a roomful of kids and adults in the Bath County Memorial Library.

“I’ve been pleasantly surprised by it. This is a cute little town, and I would definitely come back and visit it even when there’s not a festival,” Smith said.

Before the reading, Sullivan, of Louisville, was asked what he believed was the source of the not-quite manna from heaven.

“I’m Team Vulture Vomit for sure,” Sullivan said, chuckling. “Without a doubt, I often will hear from parents about how they get sick of reading it every night.”

By 4 p.m., hundreds of people were walking from downtown Owingsville to Byron’s property, lining the fence as Corbin told the tale of the meat shower via megaphone. Several hundred yards away and high above, a half-dozen or so possible descendants of the creatures that likely caused the fuss and festival circled slowly.

Then the plane arrived and over three passes, dropped the meat, which fluttered to the ground like autumn leaves. As soon as it flew away, folks of all ages began to pick up the packages, lured in part by a chance to win prizes.

Among the gatherers was Arliss Shelman of Woodford County, who tallied eight.

“It’s been a great meat shower,” said the third-grader, before admitting it was the only meat shower he could remember.

This story was originally published March 3, 2026 at 5:00 AM.