One of the families that I grew up with had an annual party in April for 300-400 friends and family and they served whole hog BBQ that had been cooked overnight. When we were in our mid-teens we began to help, eventually taking over full responsibility. Man, talk about a drinking event! The Friday night cooking part was actually more fun than the real thing Saturday. Because this was only once a year we didn't have a set up like Cooter's link, but we did dig a pit, about 6 ft x 12 ft x 1ft, fitted with angle iron rails on the long side and used a 55 gal barrel on a stand to burn our oak and shovel out the coals to spread under the 6-8 halves. The pig was skewered with 2 rods and then 2 wire racks were bolted on to hold the meat in place. Once the barrel had enough coals to start, around 6:00 pm, the pigs went on and stayed there until in was time to chop it up the next day, somewhere around 5:00 pm.
I'd go over around 8 or 9 o'clock Friday to start my shift. There would be as many as 50 people around and I would always let the youngsters and first timers do some work while I had a few beers and caught up with everyone. Once it got late, folks would start dropping out and us regulars would get to work. All night, filling the barrel, shoveling coals and drinking beer. By 4:00 am, we'd be down to just a handful of stalwarts who could make it til dawn. Finally, my buddy's dad would roll out of bed around 7:00 and I'd head home to shower and burn my clothes before sleeping most of the day until it was time to head back over to eat.
As you can you imagine, there are tons of stories from all those years. One year, someone fell over onto the pig racks and burned his face (we were in the process of flipping them and he landed on one that had just been turned over) so he became known as Grate Face. Another year, when we were in our 20s, some us dropped acid. The mother's best friend from college was in town from San Francisco with her gay son. Being the friendly guy I am, I talked with him for a bit and he somehow took it as me coming on to him (I know I told him at least a hundred times that I was very hetero and married with children, didn't make a difference). I spent the rest of the night tripping my ass off while trying to fend him off. Finally, one of the other trippers (and cousin to my buddy) told him the leave me the **** alone or he was going to kick his ass. Man, did I hear about Tyler for years! Probably my favorite was the year when the old timers officially handed us the shovels for good. My friend went around all night, telling everyone "I'm in charge, I'm in charge". We let him run his gator, knowing from years' past that he wouldn't make it all night. Sure enough he proceeded to drink his ass off and eventually passed out inside. When we found him we covered him with sticky notes that read "I'm in charge" and "I'm the boss" and took pictures to shame his ass the next day. Needless to say, he didn't have quite the cocky attitude the next year.
The final 10 years or so, when I was in my forties, every year, like clockwork, my wife would ask me "are you planning on staying all night?" and shake her head in disgust when I told "damn straight!". Sadly, due to the father's failing mental health, the nearly 40 year run ended a couple of years ago. Man, I sure miss it.