The Last Nail

One day I was working with a young kid, well younger than me anyway, on a job that required a ladder, and a nail gun that would shoot fasteners into concrete.  (Yes, it’s another one of those “wild” tools.)

We were using a straight ladder with round wooden rungs and had set it up leaning against a wall.  The kid had climbed up the ladder with his feet about head height off the ground.  He shot a nail from the gun into some concrete.

A short tangential diversion here: One time on a different job a homeowner wanted to know how a power nail gun worked.  I set a brick on the cement floor and shot a nail into it.

Any engineer could have anticipated the result.  At the shot, the brick split in half, each half scooting in a different direction; both halves traveling until they contacted the nearest wall.

In older concrete a nail shot from a power set gun may at times hit a rock or pebble in the concrete and “spall.”  This means that a wide, shallow portion of concrete will chip off and go flying to who knows where.  The nail will also travel elsewhere.  It is usually possible to know where the nail goes by its distinctive ring when it lands.

This is exactly what happened when the kid shot that first nail.  However, for some reason neither of us heard it land, and though we looked diligently neither of us could find it.  Well, no real problem there.  It was just an old bent nail by now.  We forgot about it.  The next shot was good and we went on with our work.

A couple of days later we were again using the ladder with the round rungs.  When we set it up we found the nail that had disappeared.  It had disappeared into one of the round rungs (about ¾” in diameter).  It was the rung the kid’s feet had been on when he shot the nail.

It was also the rung next to my head at the time the kid shot the nail.

The kid had barely missed getting a nail in his foot.  I had barely missed getting shot in the head with a wild nail.  Steel toed boots and hard hats are cumbersome and sometimes inflict difficult parameters to the normal ease of work flow.  But they can sure come in handy.

Safety measures are a good thing.  Safety measures are there for our protection.  I firmly believe it.  They have probably saved my life numerous times.

It is one aspect of the work that was difficult for me to get used to.

Not the Right Shop

After I had been working for one shop for a number of years, I was laid off.  Another shop hired me and it was at this time that I was assigned a partner who was the real sharp electrician I spoke of previously.

One morning I was, as usual, running late.  I hurriedly parked my car and headed for the employee’s entrance and slipped in.  There was the boss and all his men.  As usual they were standing around listening to him – and they were also all staring at me.

The real problem was, it was the wrong boss, … the wrong men, … the wrong shop.  My car had mistakenly made its way to my previous employer.

I stopped dead in my tracks with my hand on the door knob and stared back at them.  I blurted out; “Oh! No!  I’m at the wrong shop.”

Immediately I turned and left and heard the whole bunch of them burst into laughter as I walked to my vehicle.

The new shop was run by a man  who was difficult to work for.  He had the practice of calling all the men in for conference and then choosing one employee to pick on.  He would tell him all the things he had done wrong in the last few months, in front of all the rest of the men.  Then he would dismiss us to go to our respective jobs.

After the first time I saw this happen, my partner said that the owner did this all the time.  He said that my time was coming.  I told him; “If he ever did that to me I’m going to walk right out.”

So of course my time did come.  As soon as he started on me I walked away, picked up my tools and headed for the door.  He quickly dismissed the other men and met me there.

He said; “I didn’t mean for you to quit.”

I replied: “If you can’t make a profit on my work, it is no use for me to work for you.”

He told me that they really needed me so I consented to remain, but I told him: “I’ll work for you but don’t ever do that to me again.”

My partner said to me: “Nobody has ever stood up to him before.”

Some people never learn.  On another day he started in on me again and I walked out.

I only saw him one more time.  He was advertising over the radio for help.  He came to my home and visited a little while, but didn’t have the guts to ask me to come work for him again.

I wondered if I would ever find the right shop.

Adrian’s Blog

On The Boss’ Time

One shop I worked for in Montana had four men that had worked for the owner for years.  He had trained them from the start.  Each man had a company vehicle that he drove for the shop.  They had their boss figured out well.

The first guy I went with stopped and paid his monthly bills at four or five places before we got to the job.  It would be noon before we arrived at the job.

The next day I was sent with another man.  The job was out of town about 30 miles.  (Thirty miles wasn’t a great deal of time in Montana when the speed limit was not generally enforced.)  This guy never ate breakfast at home, so we would stop at a little café before we left town and I would wait while he ate breakfast.  By the time we arrived at the job site it was time for the morning coffee break.

A few days later I was sent with man number 3.  He was better – usually arriving at the job site only about an hour and a half late.  I don’t remember his ritual for wasting time.

The first time I was sent out with the fourth guy it was a cold one, and we were doing work on street lighting.  For a time we drove around the streets looking at the job.  Then we stopped in a small shop for coffee break and to warm up.  Right then, in walked The Boss.  Boy was that fellow nervous when The Boss walked in.

The Boss contributed to this general air of lack of accountability in time use.  Every morning he would call us all together and each man would go over what he had done the day before.  In detail.  In GREAT detail.  – Ex:  “Well, I got to the job site and I nailed on two boxes.  Then I ran some #12 to one box.  Then I ran some #12 to the other box.  Then I went to get some devices…..”   The Boss would then outline that man’s job for the day.  – Ex: “When you get there I want you to nail on two boxes.  Then run some #12 to one box.  Then run some #12 to the other box.  Then go get your devices…..”  When everyone was done he would dismiss us to go to work.

One day I was sent to go on a job all by myself.  I was determined that I would not waste any time.  I asked the Boss which truck I should use, grabbed the keys and a roll of wire along with a 40 foot extension ladder.  I was gone while he was still talking to the other men.

I drove the few blocks to the job site, walked into the back yard, and looked over the job.  (It took about 5 minutes.)  I got the ladder and put it up to the building and was half way up when the Boss walked around the corner.

I looked down at him and said; “I hope I have the right place.”

He never said a word, just turned around and left.  I guess the new guy couldn’t be trusted.

Because I was the last one hired, I was the first one fired when the slow time hit the company.

That seemed to be a general policy among shop owners.