I have eaten some of them 'fresh rung chickens'. At my grandmother's on my father's side in southern Indiana. My grandmother would ring the chickens Sunday morning and fry them on a wood burning kitchen stove for Sunday dinner, best chicken I ever had! Their home had no running water and there was a hand pump in the kitchen that would supply water from a cistern, bathroom was an outhouse complete with Sears catalog and a tin of ash. Bathing was done with a pan of water heated on the wood stove and done on the back porch. My cousins lived down the road on a dairy farm that had about 25 cows and a commercial style chicken house with about 500 egg layers. We were living in northern Illinois and I used to look forward to Thanksgiving for our yearly visit there. When I was 9 I got to spend a month living on the dairy farm with them, working the cows and going to church in the evenings. What a different country it was back then!