One winter in Montana, during a time that the temperatures were hovering in the minus 20 to minus 40 range, two of us were sent to repair some neon lighting over a side door of a hotel.  There was just enough room on the top of the canopy for the two of us to stand and work on the fixture.

While we were working, a young man dressed in summer street clothes came out of the hotel and unlocked a car parked near the side wall of the hotel.  It was obvious that the car had not been winterized.  This was in the 1960s and cars did not start well in the winter in those years.

When the young man tried to start the car, the motor barely turned over.  He got out, locked the car and went back into the hotel before he froze.  The obvious thing to do was to call a service station for help.

About 20 minutes later he came out of the hotel and tried it again.  We concluded that he didn’t have enough money to call a service station.  We felt a little sorry for him, figuring that he was from out of state and this was his first experience with cold weather starting.

Of course the car did not start this time either.  He got out, walked around the car, kicked all four tires and ran back into the hotel.  We looked at each other and one of us said; “Nope, the tires are O.K.  That can’t be the problem.”

A few minutes went by and here he came again.  The same thing happened again.  This time when the car wouldn’t start he raised the hood and looked into the engine compartment.  Then he slammed the hood shut and ran back inside the hotel.

This was starting to get entertaining!

One of us said; “The engine is still there.”

A short while later, out he came and tried to start the car once more.  Still no start.  This time he raised the hood, took off the radiator cap and peered into the radiator.  One of us said; “Yup, it’s full of gas.”

He went back into the hotel and didn’t come out again while we were there.  By that time we had our job done and were starting to get cold.  We picked up our tools and ladders and headed for the barn.  I have no idea what he did with his frozen car.

Perhaps it is incidents like this that give Montana and North Dakota a reputation for being cold.

Who’s The Boss?

One job I was on we were wiring a large building near the railroad.  I was the guy that was running the job for the company.  One day at noon, we all went to the large roll up doors to sit on the loading dock to eat our lunch.

While we ate a Railroad work crew came by in an extra cab pick-up.  It was loaded full of railroad workers.  The vehicle was traveling about 1 foot per second.  In effect it was traveling REAL slowly.

It took several minutes to get to us and go past.  Our guys looked over their guys very closely as the pick-up went by.

After it had gone some distance past, one of the guys sitting there eating lunch said: “Adrian, I want to go for a ride.”

A different time we had a number of school houses that were being remodeled for the next school year.  We were taking out old fashioned light fixtures and replacing them with fluorescent fixtures called “Slimlines.”

Getting to the job, there was one truck completely loaded with fixtures, miscellaneous materials, ladders and tools.  Three of us electricians rode with the boss in his car. The lighting fixtures were a new technology at the time and none of us had worked with these fixtures before.  As we were driving back the first day, the boss was figuring costs out loud as he drove.  He was trying to see how close he was to his bid.

I was sitting in the back seat.  As the boss was figuring out so many fixtures for so many houses for so many men I was also doing the same figuring in my head.

I did a quick calculation in my head and realized that he had miscalculated.  I blurted out; “No, Roy (we were on a first name basis), that’s not right.”  (How is that for tact?)  I saw Roy’s shoulders bunch up but it was too late now.  I then went over my thinking, out loud, in front of the other men, and explained that we were at ½ hour per fixture.

He was a good man and did a re-figure based on what I said and then stated; “That’s not bad at all!”

I have since learned to be a little more tactful when I disagree with someone.  Especially since for over twenty years I was the boss.

Who’s Watching the Office

One of the shops I worked for had a number of different secretaries over the years.  One of the partners had been a patrolman.  Both the ex-patrolman and his partner were good people to work for.  The patrolman would tell interesting stories of his highway experiences.  He would tell stories of being a sheriff, a patrolman, and an FBI agent.  One story was about watching the burning of old currency.

Both of the owners were quite lenient about coffee break time.  For instance one time two of us went into our favorite coffee shop.  The other two electricians were already there.  About the time we were done with our coffee break, the two partners walked in.  While the two of them walked over to us the secretary of the moment came in behind them.  (The coffee shop was only a half a block from the office.)  The ex-police officer turned to his partner and asked; “I wonder who’s watching the office.”

The boss replied; “We better get back there.”

The ex-patrolman once told us the story of a time he was on Montana State Highway 24, on the way to Fort Peck.  It was a two lane road.  As he came up over one of the hills he saw that both lanes were blocked.

Two cars headed in opposite directions were stopped beside each other.  They had their drivers’ doors open and the two drivers were sitting on their running boards (yes, they had them in those days).  They were each having a cool one while visiting with one another.

It turns out they were both from Canada and had noticed each other’s license plate as they met on the road.  They had both stopped, positioned their cars next to one another on the road, and began to visit.

The patrolman pulled up behind one of them and then gently suggested that they should go somewhere else to visit.

Those were gentler times.