First Jobs 3.0 Putting in a Real Day's Work
At some point, a child starts doing an adult's day's work. Melanie, Sheri, and I worked at the store. We learned to open and close by ourselves, made the deposit, went to the bank, and we sometimes made out the schedule for everybody. Two other jobs I had during this growing up time impacted me in ways that I still think about today...
Building Chain Link Fence with my Papa
My mom's dad, Judson, worked the 2PM to 10PM shift on the fuel farm at AEDC. In the mornings, before he went out there, he built fence for Sears.
My Papa could talk just fine, but his non-verbal communication was something I had to learn. Uncle George knew all of his looks, head shakes, nods, exhales, and tobacco spits, but this didn't come easy for me. Once you started to figure out what each one of these moves meant, he would throw a double or triple at you. For example, A long look over the glasses, followed by a head shake and a spit was really bad. A spit, before or after a head shake might mean something is crooked and has to be redone. Also, there is a step by step process to building a good chain link fence. Being 12 or 13 was no excuse. I had to catch on fast and not slow him down. I learned how to use my hands and my brain. Most importantly, I learned how to watch, listen, and learn.
When my Papa did speak, he said some things I that I still think about every day.
Get up under it Sonny Boy. He said this when we were moving something really heavy, like a big roll of fence. He was depending on me, even willing me to move it like a grown man. I hear his voice even now when I have to move something heavy. In my mind, I have extended this to other trials and pressures of life. The phrase has served me well. Don't run, or hide or walk past difficult things. Get up under it and move it.
Another thing he said fairly often...Watch it Sonny Boy, you're going to assle around and tear that up. Is assle even a word?? He might have said this when I was using one of his good crescent wrenches as a hammer. Or when I was not paying attention and about to break something.
He was durable and dependable. Weather didn't stop him from working. I can't remember anything stopping him from working. If he said he would do something, he did it.
Practical life lessons were also shared. In a moment of need, he could lean into a five gallon bucket in the trunk of his car to use the bathroom. Taking a knee over a corner post hole would also work. We couldn't just stop and go find a bathroom. And you sure didn't ask to go inside anybody's house. Improvise. Adapt, keep working.
When he found a stopping point for the day, we threw everything into his old white Chevrolet car. The bumper almost dragged from the weight in the trunk. Behind the car was his trailer with the tall sides, and loose gravel and bags of concrete mix. He drove into his side yard and backed the trailer up by the garage. Then he ran inside, got a quick shower, and picked up his lunch, that my grandmother had made, up off the counter. Then he trotted back out to the car to go to AEDC for his 2 to 10 shift.
Dozens of people have told me that they helped Judson build fence. Phil Jones, my cousin, and Bobby Ferrell both worked with him. They both have some great stories to tell.
People that knew Judson well, and know me pretty good say I'm a lot like him. I see a lot of Judson in my cousins Erik and Taylor too. We all got a good head start with his DNA. I take that as a big compliment. I try really hard every day to not assle around and mess that up.
Painting at AEDC
The summer right after high school graduation, I wanted to get a job somewhere and make some "real" money. My dad reluctantly agreed to it, and I went to work at AEDC for a painting contractor. My Uncle Bill Williams worked for Dupont. He knew the contractor at AEDC, and helped me out by telling me who to talk to. Lucky for me, they did need some people, and I got a job. I still worked some nights and weekends at the store, but this was the real deal.
Crossing the Picket Line. We had to enter the base through the Contractor's gate. Traffic was backed up and I was worried I'd be late on my first day. There was a Picket Line to cross. I found out later that the contractor I worked for was the one that was painting all the things the people on strike should have been painting. We drove through the gate one vehicle at a time. The striking workers and their supporters walked slowly in front of my truck. They stared at me, and I looked straight ahead. I didn't know anything about strikes and unions. I just wanted to work and make some money.
Filling up Buddy's truck. Buddy was the boss. He was about forty years old, six foot four, and 200 something pounds. He had dark hair, dark sunglasses, and a cigarette dangling from his lips. I am certain he holds the worlds record for stringing together the most curse words without taking a breath. I saw the irony that his name was Buddy, and my sense of humor about his name shielded me from the effects of the foul language. Take all the modifiers away, and Buddy's sentences were pretty short.
About a week into the job, Buddy said, Go fill my truck up with diesel fuel. Buddy drove a black one ton dually, with an 8 foot bed. I thought, Great! I get to go to town and goof off for a couple of hours. Wrong. I was sent to the back of the property, where they kept empty 55 gallon drums. So I loaded six 55 gallon drums, and hand cranked diesel into them from a big tank, until they were full. I laughed through most of it, because I thought I had a free pass to go to town.
Wire Brushes and Crescent wrenches. Each man had a tool belt. All summer long, I used a wire brush and a scraper. I never painted anything. The pipes that we had to prep for paint were thirty plus years old, and it took some effort with the wire brush to make Buddy happy. Many of the pipes had steam in them, so while you tried to get close enough to get some shade and relief from the summer sun, the steam inside the pipes made for a long day.
Jimmy Major. One morning I was getting started on my scraping and wire brushing, and some people were walking towards me on the sidewalk. I recognized one of them to be Jimmy Major, from my high school. He graduated toward the top of our class, and was out there at the base doing a summer internship. Jimmy had a shirt and tie on, and seemed to be getting along quite well. He didn't see me or recognize me in my hard hat, and because I was in the shadows of the steam pipes. I dipped my head down as he passed, and I didn't say anything. This was an "aha!" moment for me! I remember thinking, when I get to Motlow in the fall, I have got to study a little harder than I did in high school, or I could be scraping for a long, long time. Thank you Jim for this pivotal moment, and motivating me to get focused.
Jody, Griff, and Larry. There were some characters working there. Jody was our most talented painter. He did the tops of the water tanks, and really high stuff. At break time, he would loop his safety rope over the cross wires and slide down a section at a time. He could have used the ladder, but that was not how Jody rolled. Speaking of that, Jody rolled up a joint at every breaktime and at lunchtime. I'm sure it was medically necessary and above board. After all, we were on an Air Force base. Griff was our supervisor. He was a nice guy, and his son worked out there too. They were from Shelbyville and had a restaurant for years. Larry Childers was a really good guy and a quiet man. He was always nice to me. In a tragic accident later that fall, Larry fell 120 feet from a crane he was painting, to a concrete pad. A sad reminder that life is precious and safety should always come first.
Don't take everyone literally...Hand me that paint gun. I carried a crescent wrench on my tool belt for a couple of weeks and never got to use it. One of the guys asked me to get him that paint gun over there. Finally, I thought, I'll get to use my crescent wrench. I picked up the paint gun and placed it between my knees and put my wrench on the coupling where the hose was connected, and started separating them. Little did I know, the hose was under low pressure, and had dark maroon primer paint in it. By now, the guy that asked for the paint gun had gotten the attention of a couple of other guys, and they were watching me. Upon separation, the paint gun was securely in my hand, but the hose twisted up and away. I had paint in my hair and ears, and splattered all over me. They laughed. I was surprised and mad. I walked up close to the guy that started all this, and had every intention of shutting him up. As this big tough guy laughed, I noticed scars on his face, and the absence of several teeth. In a split second I realized I may have more to lose than he did by tangling with him. So I forced a smile and laughed with him. Then I got cleaned up and we all went back to work. Sometimes I still take people literally. I have this experience to remind me to slow down and think about the big picture.
Working at AEDC that summer with those tough guys helped prepare me for other jobs and people I'd meet. I've never crossed another picket line, and I always think twice now before using my crescent wrench.