Electricians inherently work in dangerous situations with a high probability of dangerous outcomes.  You would think an electrician would know enough to stay sober while on the job.  One slip and you could have a mountain of a mess on your hands.

Some guys would amaze me with how much they drank on the job and were still alive.

One fellow I worked with in Montana was pretty heavy on the bottle.  I don’t know why the boss kept him on but he was a pain to the rest of us.  One time he was working on a job and the boss sent me down to help him out.

When I got to his job, he was going to pull wire.  However contrary to common sense he had pulled all the wire off of the wire reels.  It was in one big mess in the center of the floor, with him in the center of the mess, like a bird in the middle of a huge nest.

He was of the opinion that he could handle it, and sent me down to the other end of the run to pull the wire.  His plan was to untangle and feed the wire as I pulled it.  We would pull about 4 feet of wire and then have to stop while he untangled more.  Finally I suggested that I go work on other things while he worked on untangling all of the wire.

About 4 hours later he came and told me he was ready.  It took us about ½ hour to pull the whole run.  After that I tried to avoid working with him because I didn’t know what kind of mess he would get into.

In the Electrical Union drinking on the job was one ground to fire a man immediately.  A foreman and a superintendant had to observe the man drinking alcohol on the job.

One time there were about a dozen of us electricians working on a job with one heavy boozer.  Every few hours he would disappear for a short time and reappear fully loaded.  The foreman approached a couple of us and told us to watch where he went when he disappeared.

After a time we saw him crawl up into the attic space and into a dark corner where he got his re-blast.  We informed the foreman and he went and got the superintendant.  They got a powerful light and caught him red handed.  Or should I say red faced.  He was gone within the hour.

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.