an excerpt from The 28 Inch Mill by Robert D. Frantz
Sometimes we’d hafta cover for some of the old guys, you know, who didn’t want to go to the wash house.
In them days when you became too old and didn’t have the time in or the inclination to take your pension they’d give you a job as janitor in the wash house, but some guys were just too proud. So that made the job even tougher, but you knew some day you were gonna get old too and need help.
I seen a lotta guys start out as young tigers and end up hardly able to get through the turn. You could tell when a guy was hurtin’ and pushin’ himself and pretty soon he wouldn’t be around. Then you’d hear he was in St. Luke’s. Next thing you know he’d be gone. Continue reading