BillsStoriesTheGuyPerspective

As a young man, I had the opportunity to work on dredge boats as part of my early training for how to get along in life and with the people one meets in life. Cable splicing, rope work, paint chipping , painting, boat handling, pure old-fashioned hard work was all part of the training. The most-important aspect of all was how to work with and get cooperation from about as wide and varied a group of men as one ever encounters.
"Little Swede" was a short, quiet, strong and willing worker. Swede pulled his own weight and more. Swede was an early-on hero of mine. Swede had a chronic problem with his feet; sores that never properly healed. He had worked in a steel mill. There had been an accident where molten steel had spilled and had a man trapped and disabled. Swede, in the finest tradition of heroes throughout human history, waded through that spill of molten steel, picked that unfortunate man up, lifted him up to his shoulders, and waded back through that same spill of molten steel. This incident happened many years before I met Swede; he still suffered as a result of his heroism. But he suffered quietly and did his job. Was finally able to get him to open up about the problem with his feet on one of the late-night shifts. I never brought it up again and I never heard Swede mention it again, to me or to anyone else.
Henry was a typical "Lil' Abner", if you remember that particular comic strip. Huge hands, broad shoulders, narrow waist, tall and quiet. Funny how most really strong people are usually the more-quiet, gentle-natured among us. Henry would, on his off hours, take a cast net and cast for mullet. Henry could make a cast-net act like a parasol, perfectly round and fully open with each cast. Really something to behold. Henry eventually quit and became a captain on a tug boat. Not surprising. Henry was wasting his talents doing deck work on a dredge.
"Big Swede", was mate for one of the three shifts on the boat. Big Swede saw his men grouped around something on the shore. These men seemed to be acting cautiously and just a bit afraid. Big Swede walked up, no, that's a poor descriptive phrase; he lumbered up, pushed his way through the group of men, picked that poor unfortunate snake up and bit its head off. Said he'd not tolerate a snake terrorizing his men. The SPCA should have done something about Big Swede terrorizing snakes.
I was young and green as a gourd. Was at that time working on one of the smaller dredges. This boat could be operated by just one operator and one man for deck crew. I was handling the night shift. Needed to go do some work with the motor launch. Became disoriented, but totally without my being aware of this. I'd gotten quite a distance from the dredge and headed in the wrong direction down the channel. The operator gave the horn signal for help needed on the boat. I wondered to myself, "now what?" I turned that launch around, a feat in and of itself, and went back to the dredge. The operator told me quite simply what I was doing. Said he didn't think I really needed to be headed across the Gulf of Mexico in the direction of Mexico, because that was just exactly where I was headed. I allowed that he was probably right. The way that launch handled, I'd probably have been in for a nice long swim long before I met the next landfall.
I kept encountering Dentine Chewing Gum wrappers at all kinds of different places on that boat. My brother, Jimmy Johns had worked on this same boat long before I did. He chewed Dentine Gum back then. Unmistakable signs of Jimmy's having been there.
Captain "Happy" Philips, good man to work for and be around. He'd take that jeep of his and pull pipe, shovel sand, carry loads right along with the best of his men. Captain Philips had a problem. Captain Philips was diabetic. The only way I became aware of this was the time he uncharacteristically sat down and held his head in his hands. The boat operator told him, "Captain, you'd better eat something sweet before this goes any further." Captain Philips' face was flushed and he seemed unstable on his feet. One candy bar later and Captain Philips looked like his old self. I never heard him complain about his condition, never saw him shirk his duty, never saw him do much of anything but do a fine job of managing that big dredge. Handicapped? I don't think so. At least not to the extent that it showed.
Captain Philips let me pull a couple of shifts on the weekend so I could stay in school. I was on my own and paying a landlady ten dollars a week for room and board. This left me $4.98 for the week to operate a car, buy my own lunches and stay in school. Captain Philips never talked about what he'd done, he just did it. Another hero? I'd say so.
And there are many others, too numerous to mention. Perhaps a sequel. Right now, I have some hungry dogs and horses to feed, so had better be about it before wife wakes up. And make no mistake about this: I ain't afraid of wife either. At least right now, she's sound asleep.