Written By Kenneth Kinder

Spring has arrived and I received a call from an old construction buddy. He asked if we could get a few of our old working cohorts together and meet for breakfast. I said sure and so we made a few calls and made arrangements for a meeting. After we ordered our breakfast and our coffee was brought to our table, the conversation started flowing freely and the first liar didn’t stand a chance.

Bob Eversult ( retired sheet metal worker ) started with do you remember when Bill killed that snake? Put it in the jobsite portable toilet right next to where you sit. Waited for Phil ( who is scared to death of snakes ) to go into the crapper and then drive his pickup bumper against the door so Phil couldn’t get out. Phil was so frightened when he discovered the snake that he almost had a stroke. He tried to get out; but the door wouldn’t budge. He screamed for help but Bill had the keys to the pickup and he wouldn’t give them to any-one. It’s not tht Bill is that insensitive but he was afraid of what Phil would do when he was released. It was like a Mexican standoff. With Phil promising not to retaliate, and Bill not buying any of his big lie. Bill eventually backed away from the door so Phil could get out; but he kept on going and didn’t come back for a couple of days. By that time Phil had a chance to cool down and forgive Bill.

These same two guys Bob and Bill were also great for bringing fire-crackers on the job. They would wait for a worker to get in a situation where he was fully concentrating on the work at hand. Then sneak up behind them and set off a couple of big ones. This would usually result in these two jokers being chased all over the project.

Neal had an electrician working for him that we called whispering Jim, because he couldn’t speak above a whisper. He was a real nice guy and a good worker but he was on the brunt end of the horseplay a lot of the times. Some one was constantly nailing his lunch box, leather tool pouch, or any thing else in sight to the floor. He was good natured and never responded in kind, when it would probably have stopped some of the nonsense if he had retaliated. When the job started winding down and Neal had to let Jim go. Good old Bob removed all the hub-caps from his car, put a few rocks in each one, and then replaced them. Most of the workers on the job were aware of the situation, and were hiding in various locations watching as Jim pulled away from the project. We all just about split a gut, watching Jim drive a few feet, stop and look all around to see what was making all that noise. He would start and stop, start and stop again until Neal finally told him what was wrong. He removed all the rocks and reported to the hiring hall. When he got there and signed the out of work book, he found out that Neal had already arranged on a new job for him to report.

We had some workers that we will call intellectually challenged. How they ever passed their journeyman test and got their card to work as an electrician is beyond me. Some of them couldn’t find their butt with both hands, and one of them answered to the name of Art. I first met him when he was an apprentice and he was assigned to work for me. We pulled up to this apartment house project just as the cement finishers were troweling their wet cement to a smooth finish. Art asked if it was alright to walk across? This burly cement man thought he was kidding and said sure. He figured anyone with half a brain knew better than to walk on something they were still finishing. He had not counted on the fact that Art couldn’t chew gum and walk at the same time. Well Art took off across that wet driveway sinking all the way to the ground with every step he took. These cement men were so astonished at his stupidity that they were momentarily frozen, but when they came to their senses they found out one thing. Art could run like a turpentined cat. None of the triple crown champion race horses could keep close that day. The good news was, they couldn’t catch Art. The bad news was he never got any smarter. I think he worked for every journeyman at our shop, and every one canned him.

Then one of our more intelligent workers discovered that a furring nail was just the right diameter to slide through a 1/2 inch piece of conduit like a head hunters blow gun. This nail is driven through a piece of round wadded paper that is about 3/4 inch deep, and it’s purpose is to hold the line wire away from the stucco paper for the stucco to have some place to stick while it is wet. Well let me tell you fellers, when this combination of a furring nail, and a 10 foot length of conduit is placed in the right hands. Katy bar the doors, cause life on the work place gets down right dangerous. A fellow with a good set of lungs and the skill to aim this projectile can pick up a few bucks at a turkey shoot. I swear it will travel several yards and then penetrate ply-wood, and if any one is on the receiving end of this weapon, it’s not a pretty sight.

Then there was the time four of us electricians were working on a big office remodel down town. My-self, Neal, an apprentice named Rich, and his journeyman Burly Jim Patton. During the second world war, Burly Jim was heavy weight boxing champion in the Navy. Jim had gotten a check from the I.R.S. on his income tax overpayment, and wanted to treat us all to a good lunch at Sams Hofbrau. The weather was misting rain and it was a little wet, so it was slick. Rich was walking to careful to suit Jim, so when we got to the van Jim made a big mistake. The van was designed for two people, but I rode on the motor box and Rich was going to ride in the back with the material. Rich was a medium built young man weighed around 150 to 160 and in great physical shape. The mistake Jim made was to open the double doors to the van, grab Rich by the seat of his pants and his shirt collar, and toss him head over heels into the van and then close the door. When we arrived at the restaurant Rich was waiting, and when Jim released the handles to open the doors, Rich had his legs in a folded position and he hit both doors with all his leg strength, and all 325 pounds of Burly Jim slid across that wet parking lot like a bowling ball. Jim got up off the ground, wiped himself off and never said a word to Rich. Jim was a big clown but he could take as well as he gave.

I was working on another job with Jim where he had done the rough wiring on the job, and he had forgotten to install the ground wire for the service panel. When I started to trim the panel I brought this to his attention. He said don’t worry I will crawl in the service ground. Now you have to imagine trying to pack 10 pounds of crap into a 5 pound sack, and that was how Jim looked when he was trying to force his large bulk through that small crawl hole access to the area under the floor of the apartment. Needless to say Jim got stuck, and started hollering for help. When I first saw the predicament he had gotten himself in, I almost laughed myself sick. The more he tried to free himself, the tighter he got himself wedged. I told him that he would have to relax and the swelling would shrink back to normal. He finally relaxed enough that along with some wire pulling lubricant spread between him and the wooden crawl hole, two of us guys grabbed his legs and Burly Jim was extricated. After that when ever he had a chance, he would steal my lunch, eat the whole meal and then criticize in writing the way Janey had prepared my food.

Warren Electric Co. the shop I worked at for so many years did a lot of work on several churches in the Sacramento area. Warren donated a lot of material, and some of the men donated time to the wiring of the new additions, and one of the churches was where Jims wife Babe had her membership and also played the church organ. Jim and Babe made a strange looking couple when you saw them together. Jim weighed well over 300 pounds, and Babe just barely broke the 100 mark. She would always bake some goodies and bring them out to the church when we worked on Saturdays. While we took a coffee break and ate some of the sweets she had baked, she would entertain us by playing the organ. Some of the music the pastor would find inappropriate, but we worked cheap so he couldn’t complain. Jim and Babe are both gone but the memories remain.