Good Jobs And Not So Good Jobs

When I was a kid the need to put some money in my pocket caused me to seek out work. I've had a slew of jobs; quite a few of them lousy. In Boone, Iowa the fairgrounds was located on the east side of Linn St.(I think it was Linn) and at 10th street just north of the Chicago & Nortthwestern railroad tracks. It seems to me there was always a carnival coming to town and we kids always went to spend what little cash we had. One day I went out to the site. I must have been 12 years old and it was set up day. I can't remember the exact features of the guy setting up the Tilt-A-Whirl but he asked if I wanted a job. I had a real problem about dickering on price when I was a young lad. I told him I'd help out and he said to get started. I carried everything involved in the set up; just me and the guy with the cigarette hanging out his lips--------for what seemed like hours. Actually, it was about six. At paying time he gave me $2. I was absolutely incensed but I didn't know what that word meant at the time. So, I was angry and being a kid probably cried a little as I trudged hom. Two stinking dollars. Boy, was I stupide. I promised I'd never again be that dumb------but I was. Catholic boys were taught to trust people. That's what the nuns told us.

Be that as it is my first real job was between my junior and senior year in high school. A friend of mine got me a job working at Percival Refrigeration & Mfgr. It was located on old Hwy. 30 that ran through town at the east end of the our community. The building was all brick, about two stories high with windows all around. 

If you're like me when you begin a job you are the same as a future father-in-law of the bride; show up and shut up. That's seems to be the best policy. Not only that there's a fear of not knowing what lies ahead.

My first day was grunt work. The foreman of the plant, Floyd Carr, was a banty rooster looking guy; red hair and about 5'7". He had a reputation for being no nonsense so I wanted to make a good impression. There were four new hirees and our task was to unload a boxcar full of wood. 

When you're a kid and starting a job time does not fly. I remember the first time a buzzer went off in the plant and all the workers put down there tools. I thought, "Good, it's lunch time." Except it was the 10 o'clock break. Man, oh man, work is horrible I told myself. Regardless, we made it through the day and Mr. Carr was pleased with out work.

The greatest impression made on me were the workers. To this day I remember quite a few of them and even their names after fifty-seven years. I took note of their weirdness. There was a fella named Art Sellers. He was nice enough, walked with a limp and told me he had always wanted to be a doctor. I didn't believe him then and I don't believe him now. George's Tavern was in walking distance, about thirty yards from Percival's and he and a bunch of othe guys always ate their lunch there.

A fella named Don Schroeder treated me nice. Well, he was a high school baseball fan and went to our games so he knew I played. During that summer his nine year old son got sick and was in the hospital, I took the lad an autographed baseball. From then on I could do no wrong. It's good when a 'big guy' has your back.

A man drove down from the small community of Stratford. I think his name was Fred Funk. Stratford was 20 miles north of Boone. Fred gave me an errie feeling. He was roly poly with reddish hair and when he looked at you he'd drop his head and peer out of the top of his glasses then snicker. Fred would have made a great character in a horror film.

Cloyd Platter was the asst. foreman. The name of Platter in Boone was one to be respected. Not because they were stellar citizens but because many of them, in my opinion, were considered 'Hoods'. 

I bet every town had these. I felt the same way about the name of Stumbo. I know I'm wrong because in my class was a girl named Linda Stumbo and she was quite nice. Buddy Stumbo, on the other hand; we'd walk across the street if we saw him coming.

The best thing about working at Percival's was it convinced me I needed to go to college and work my way into a good job. There must have been fifty guys working in the plant and we all made the same. It was $1.76 and hour and these guys were not displeased with it. I was. 

There are other instances of jobs in my life but my two summers at Percivals taught me a heck of a lot about how to treat others and expect the same in return.