Apr 1 2010

Dad Story

dad

My dad’s birthday was on March 30th, so my family has been passing a few memories around via email. Here’s one:

When I was a kid I loved the stories my dad would tell about the subpar (i.e., dangerous, toxic) jobs he held before he joined the army. One in particular I always think about:

Dad got a job at some type of harvesting/cannery plant when he was still FOTB in 1945. There were lots of odd jobs that needed to be done in the day to day running of the place, so he didn’t have a clear idea of what he’d be doing until he actually reported for work.

On the day he arrived for work, he was told to report to the manager in charge of the machines that helped harvest whatever fruits and vegetables were in season. Dad dutifully went to meet the man in charge of the machines.

I can’t remember if it was on a factory floor or in the actual fields (probably the latter) but at some point Dad came across a row of fearsome looking machines. Each machine was a noisy, complicated piece of grease and rusty metal. Each machine also had a group of men assigned to it. Their tasks involved scooping up produce and depositing it into the gaping maw of the machine. As they did this, the machine’s teeth would tear and gnash at whatever they touched.

At the end of the row of machines, a man waved at Dad and motioned him to come over. Dad immediately walked toward him, gliding past each machine as it whirred and chopped. As he walked toward the manager, Dad notice something peculiar about the men tending to the machines. They seemed to be missing an inordinate amount of fingers and limbs.

When Dad finally reached the manager, he extended his hand. The man extended his own, a scarred mitt entirely composed of three fingers jutting out at unnatural angles.

“Good to meet you,” the man yelled over the din of the machines. “Let’s get you on a crew!”

Dad quit the job very soon after and joined the army within a matter of months.

By mike • by Mike, Relatives • 2 • Tags: , , , ,