It was a beautiful Saturday morning with birds singing and sounds of the morning playing throughout God wonderful creation. Arriving at the cement plant for the start of seven-day dayshift, the beautiful melody of creation drowned in the sea of man-made noise. As kilns roared, fans screamed, gears squeaked, and metal balls clanged it was the start of a new day.
AD, MC, and I were the cement kilns crew. Gathered in the control with the shift we were relieving, we discussed what we needed to do. My role of the three amigos was starting and testing the auxiliary diesel engine at the lake where all the return water from cooling machinery settled.
As I reached for the exit door, AD said, “Take all the food out of the refrigerator, and throw it away.” The four crews that operated the cement kilns used the fridge to preserve and share. Anything left in it was fair game to be eaten. Saturday morning was the designated day to clean the fridge.
I collected the sandwiches and a lone apple. On the way to the recycling lake, I saw a group/flock of magpies. I grew up poor and we went without food on an occasion or two while dad was on layoff or without work, so throwing away food was a “SIN” for me. I finished eating the apple to the core and tossed it to the magpies. I unwrapped one sandwich from wax paper and took a second out of a plastic bag. I tore the sandwiches apart to disperse them among the magpies. There was no truck available, so I had to “hoof it” the half mile out to the lake and back.
When I rounded the corner of the ball mill building, I saw MC gathering up the remnant of food that those no good for nuthin’, ungrateful magpies refused to eat. MC was tossing the last pieces in a dumpster when I saw “KILLER,” the most feared man in the plant.
The Killer was Joe Killingsworth, the production manager of the plant. He was more powerful than the plant manager was. I witnessed men in the plant running to hide and trembling in fear when the Killer was walking in the plant, which he did at all times. Lookouts tried around the clock to spot Killer sneaking into the plant to catch some weary soul not doing his job and give the guilty worker a royal chewing. My shift foreman would visibly be shaken, as Killer would chew him out.
Killer stood before me with arms crossed and his face blood red like some Saturday morning cartoon character. MC worked like a slave threatened by a cruel master.
I could not imagine what frightened MC. MC did not fear much.
Killer looked me in the eye and asked, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO THREW THAT
I remember rocking from the balls of my feet, to the heels, then forward as to step on my tiptoes saying, “I did.”
Killer was notorious for throwing his hardhat across the floor and cussing so bad that would make a Corinthian sailor blush. I knew that he loved to embarrass and humiliate people, especially his shift foreman. I saw him reaching for his hardhat and thought here it comes.
He picked his hardhat from his head, almost tossed it, but slowly lowered it to his head and the blood began to seep from his face. He said, “Do you have any earthly idea how much we spend in the plant to kill rats.”
I knew it was not the time to respond with a Hopper wisecrack, but I did think to myself that whatever the price that they were wasting money. The rats were so large that they could carry metal lunch boxes in their mouths as witnessed by several of my co-workers. They looked like muskrats or opossums with file like tails.
I was smart enough to reply, “No sir.” He said, “We spend $2,200 each month to kill rats and you’re feeding them. Why did you do such a stupid thing?”
I said, “I grew up poor and there were times when there was no food in the house. For me it is a sin to throw food away.”
Thinking I was to be fired I waited for “YOU’RE FIRED,
I looked at him and said, “What do you want me to do?”
He calmly said, “Go to work and quit feeding the rats. I said, “Yes sir.”
MC, still nervous and watching the despicable debacle take place, walked over and said, “He was going to fire you. He asked me who done it. I told him that I didn’t know, but that I would get it up and throw it away.”
Killer liked AD. When AD asked Killer what he did to me, he said nothing except tell me to stop feeding the rats. Killer said, “I had every intention to fire him but Hopper looked me in the eye and told me the truth. I couldn’t fire a man who was truthful to me.”
Killer took a personal liking to me and trained me to be a kiln burner. He recruited me to be one of his shift supervisors. When I surrendered into the ministry, he encouraged me.
Before Killer died a couple of years ago, I saw him twice, both times at funerals.
I walked up to him and said, “If you wasn’t such an old man, I would roll you all over this parking lot.” I can’t write in this article what he said, but when I told him who I was he said, “Good to see you boy. You still preaching?”
And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free (John
No comments:
Post a Comment