I’ve always loved reading good portraits of people. I shoot reportage by trade, and while I love photography, words can offer a much richer portrait than photographs sometimes. Some of these were really great—thanks for writing.
I am enjoying your articles. I was a Carpenter in Southern California. I served an Apprenticeship, worked mainly on commercial/industrial buildings and bridges in San Diego, Imperial and Orange County. There are infinite stories to be told about some of the characters I met working in the Trades.
Hi, thanks very much for reading! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do. I have lots to choose from, and often I have to cut a good story that deserves to be told just because it doesn’t quite fit in. Thanks again!
I decided to remove the two quotes from this piece, thinking that they were slowing things down too much. One quote was from poet Thom Gunn's "All Do Not All Things Well" a favorite of mine. The other was the full text of the lyrics to Merle Haggard's "Working Man Blues" another favorite, especially for the way Merle sings the rhymes.
I enjoyed reading this very much. My husband is one of those quiet guys: "I think some of us, me especially, owe a debt to those milder souls who permit us to pass through a corner of their life unmolested, whose forbearance gave us permission to be."
“If my affection was of a moderate proportion, it was also tolerant to a degree almost negligent.”
This really resonated with me. On more than one occasion, I’d relate a funny story from one of the crew, about an infidelity or a run in with the law, to my wife at dinner. She would draw back in horror at their bad behavior. I’d be left stammering, “I guess you had to be there.”
When you get to know men so well, through so many adventures, it’s hard to be too judgmental about their actions in the wider world beyond the jobsite.
My step-father was a bricklayer and he got me a job with his contractor in 1977-78 in the summers I was in high-school. He had a 1976 El Camino and a very well behaved white German Shepherd he took to the jobs. Every Friday he would send someone to get the beer and the crew would sit under the scaffold for a half hour. I would drive home. On payday he would cash his check at the bar near the yard and have a drink. After I cashed my check, I'd go back and sit in the truck with "Reina" the dog.
Your descriptions of life on the job parallel my experience so accurately.
A met a Swedish stonemason who grew watching cowboy movies with his Dad. When he came of age he came to America to be a real cowboy. And did it, worked ranches all over Wyoming and was sought for his skill with horses. Then gave it up to work with stone and is one of the best around these parts. Still cladding chimneys in his 50's His name is Pier, and he is about as tough as a pier in a storm.
"I think some of us, me especially, owe a debt to those milder souls who permit us to pass through a corner of their life unmolested, whose forbearance gave us permission to be."
Beautiful. I wish I could write like this, but it's enough that someone can. Thanks.
I worked as an apprentice on town homes that went up in Northern Detroit in the 70s. The guys went every Friday for beer. And not the expensive kind !! It didnt matter to me…,i dont drink. But i was in college and this just gave them something else to give me a hard time. Those were the days!!!
I think of the by-now thousands who have come and gone in my very white-collar legal career. I spent all day at mediation with the manager for my large country club client. His job was maintaining a playground for people who earned more in a year than he would in a lifetime, and he was just incredibly wise and insightful.
A law school classmate and drinking buddy was a polite, easygoing, bright, fit bourgeois young man. Twelve years later he was a cokehead and fraud headed to federal prison for 20 years.
I’ve always loved reading good portraits of people. I shoot reportage by trade, and while I love photography, words can offer a much richer portrait than photographs sometimes. Some of these were really great—thanks for writing.
I am enjoying your articles. I was a Carpenter in Southern California. I served an Apprenticeship, worked mainly on commercial/industrial buildings and bridges in San Diego, Imperial and Orange County. There are infinite stories to be told about some of the characters I met working in the Trades.
1976 to 2019
Hi, thanks very much for reading! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do. I have lots to choose from, and often I have to cut a good story that deserves to be told just because it doesn’t quite fit in. Thanks again!
I decided to remove the two quotes from this piece, thinking that they were slowing things down too much. One quote was from poet Thom Gunn's "All Do Not All Things Well" a favorite of mine. The other was the full text of the lyrics to Merle Haggard's "Working Man Blues" another favorite, especially for the way Merle sings the rhymes.
This series could be made into a book. Should be.
Thank you very much for reading! We’ll see, but it means a lot that you think so.
I am enjoying the series. I need to go back to the beginning to read them all.
Do that - it's worth it!
I enjoyed reading this very much. My husband is one of those quiet guys: "I think some of us, me especially, owe a debt to those milder souls who permit us to pass through a corner of their life unmolested, whose forbearance gave us permission to be."
Yes, I think it’s something to remember. Thanks for reading!
“If my affection was of a moderate proportion, it was also tolerant to a degree almost negligent.”
This really resonated with me. On more than one occasion, I’d relate a funny story from one of the crew, about an infidelity or a run in with the law, to my wife at dinner. She would draw back in horror at their bad behavior. I’d be left stammering, “I guess you had to be there.”
When you get to know men so well, through so many adventures, it’s hard to be too judgmental about their actions in the wider world beyond the jobsite.
I think that’s true. Lorenzo, especially, was notorious. Thanks very much!
My step-father was a bricklayer and he got me a job with his contractor in 1977-78 in the summers I was in high-school. He had a 1976 El Camino and a very well behaved white German Shepherd he took to the jobs. Every Friday he would send someone to get the beer and the crew would sit under the scaffold for a half hour. I would drive home. On payday he would cash his check at the bar near the yard and have a drink. After I cashed my check, I'd go back and sit in the truck with "Reina" the dog.
Your descriptions of life on the job parallel my experience so accurately.
Yeah, now looking back, I wish we had more dogs on the job site. I only remember a couple. Not enough to devote a whole chapter. Thanks!
A met a Swedish stonemason who grew watching cowboy movies with his Dad. When he came of age he came to America to be a real cowboy. And did it, worked ranches all over Wyoming and was sought for his skill with horses. Then gave it up to work with stone and is one of the best around these parts. Still cladding chimneys in his 50's His name is Pier, and he is about as tough as a pier in a storm.
I had a stone mason repair some stone walls on my cabin a couple years ago, and he’d pick up those big rocks like they were nothing.
"I think some of us, me especially, owe a debt to those milder souls who permit us to pass through a corner of their life unmolested, whose forbearance gave us permission to be."
Beautiful. I wish I could write like this, but it's enough that someone can. Thanks.
Thank you so much for reading, Tony!
I worked as an apprentice on town homes that went up in Northern Detroit in the 70s. The guys went every Friday for beer. And not the expensive kind !! It didnt matter to me…,i dont drink. But i was in college and this just gave them something else to give me a hard time. Those were the days!!!
Thanks for reading!
I think of the by-now thousands who have come and gone in my very white-collar legal career. I spent all day at mediation with the manager for my large country club client. His job was maintaining a playground for people who earned more in a year than he would in a lifetime, and he was just incredibly wise and insightful.
A law school classmate and drinking buddy was a polite, easygoing, bright, fit bourgeois young man. Twelve years later he was a cokehead and fraud headed to federal prison for 20 years.
Thanks for reading!