THE LUMBER CAMPS – part 3
Another good story out of the lumber camp days of 1905-10 was the one about the train. This was not one of the large trains that carried my grandfather from one job to another, but one of the smaller trains used to haul the cut timber out of the woods to the lumber mill where it was dressed down to workable sizes. Apparently he had worked his way up to a position of responsibility and was the engineer of one of these trains. There was only a two man crew – the engineer and the fireman whose sole responsibility was to keep enough wood in the boiler to keep the engine running at peak performance. The financial set-up was for each man to receive $1.50 a day to make 2 runs out of the woods to the camp. If they made an additional run they received a 50 cent bonus. However, if they failed to make the required 2 runs, they were docked a full dollar. He proudly declared that he always made 3 runs, thereby earning the bonus. He said he was highballing it one day and the excessive speed caused the train to jump the tracks and imbed about half the engine into one of the sand banks put there for that very purpose. Grandpop and his fireman walked back to the camp and informed the boss that his train was in the sand bank. The boss told him that there were 2 shovels in the corner and for him and his fireman to start digging it out. This would have entailed a lot of work with no pay. At this point he told his boss again that HIS train was stuck in the sand, and he left to find another job. Apparently, they didn’t check resumes in those days and a job could be had by any man for just showing up and “fogging the mirror”. Advancement was made by way of your work performance and he was seldom outworked by any man, a trait learned early and practiced throughout his entire life. He worked 6 twelve hour days every week for the next 60 years.
(This is part 5 of a 7 part story of my grandfather’s life – part 6 next week)
5 comments:
again; thanks for the new chapter each week. very interesting learning about this part of our history.
Wow ,very good George , maybe the verizon workers should read this.
That's the way it should be , paid for performance!
paid for performance, how dare you. ideas like this could catch on. i might have to do something.
I remember hearing my parents talk about my dad finding me covered up with snow, asleep under a tree (I had my snowsuit on, they said) when I was a little kid, at the end of the day, after he was done cutting timber, back in the 1950's. Mom worked off and dad took me with him to the woods during the day, while they were cutting timber on my grandfathers farm, which we lived on and back then they used Giant mules (that's how big they seemed to be, when I was a little kid) to skid the trees out to the main road to get loaded for the sawmill. All of this came after dad had milked a dozen to two dozen dairy cows, wasjed the milkers and drove the milk into the milk station in Snow Hill. Then, when he was done in the woods at the end of the day, he got to feed those cows, milk those same cows and clean the gutters which they filled with urine and manure, all over again in the evening and every day there after, year after year, plus crops. You can image some of the things that I might think of, when I hear people crybabing and moaning about their personal hardships in life. They have NO concept of just how hard life really was, only a breath ago, for many, or what real work is, for that matter. Go cut timber, or go work in a sawmill, you'll find out what real work is all about. You'll be wanting to quit within the first 15 minutes. Good story George, brings back old memories.
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