TALE OF AN IRON WORKER

 WELDING IN THE PENTHOUSE

by Marty Rice
Welding Instructor
Dale Jackson Career Center
Lewisville, Texas
Iron Workers Local #263

Mick woke up and couldn’t even remember what day it was.  He couldn’t wait to get some overtime money, so he was really happy to hear there was a shut-down¹ job going on at a fiberglass plant in Texas.  The business agent at the union hall told him they were working 7/12’s.² He was happy as a lark making all that money those first couple of weeks.  But after seven months putting in 12 hours a day, he was reaching that “sickofit” zone.  This wasn’t a typical shutdown; it was scheduled to last 10 months.  He was getting up, working, going to bed, getting up, working, going to bed, and he was SICK OF IT!  

“Man, I don’t even know what day it is, much less the date!” Mick muttered under his breath.  He fought traffic for an hour or so, and then pulled into the construction parking lot. From there he had another mile or so to walk just to get to the part of the factory where he was working.  So with 12 hours work, and a couple of hours on the road, by the time he got in bed, it seemed like the alarm was going off again.

He saw Harry and hollered a friendly greeting, “Good morning uglystick!” 

Without even a glance, Harry hollered over to their foreman named Don.  “Hey Don, Mick is calling you!” 

“Oh, you are so funny it’s killing me!” Don snapped back adding a fake cynical laugh.  “I’ve got a good idea… how ‘bout you two lamebrains go up to the penthouse and go to work! 

“Come on!” Mick pleaded, “Don’t put me with Harry again.  I’ve heard all his stories at least 3 times over! And besides that I have to draw a soapstone line in front of him to see if he’s moving!” 

“Come on Mick,” Harry chuckled, “you know you love my stories, and I do more work in an hour than you do all day!” 

Don laughed to himself as he watched the two head to the elevator, mouthing at each other like a couple of kids on the playground.  Mick and Harry were a team; they were partners.  If you hired Mick, you got Harry and vice/versa. That was just the way it was.   They were both dang good welders, and they both knew their stuff.  But more than that, they did it right, and did it right the FIRST time EVERY time. 

They worked in perfect harmony.  An example was when Harry was hanging almost upside down off the 22^nd floor grinding and noticed he needed a stone. He was about to holler for Mick when he turned around and saw Mick’s outstretched hand with a new grinding stone.  It was almost like they could read each other’s minds. 

They headed up to the penthouse on the top of the building.  They were both glad to be going up there.  It was out in the open air, and even though it was pretty cold and windy, they preferred that to being down in the dark bowels of that plant.  For the past week they had been welding on stainless steel vessels ten stories high. 

They had to climb in a manhole at the top of the tanks and literally weld ladder steps below them until they could descend to the bottom.  To make matters worse, the tanks hung on the outside of the plant a good 30 stories up in the air.  The bottom of the tank was an open hole with nothing between them and the earth below but air.  Even though they were tied off to lifelines, it still gave them the creeps climbing down there each morning and again after lunch. 

After climbing down the inside, they had to climb up into a shaft in the middle of the tanks barely wide enough for them to move in.  It was so small in diameter they had to use leather hoods, and could barely move their arms up to their sides to strike an arc.  “You look up claustrophobia in the dictionary and it’ll show a picture of us!” Harry had quipped.  A couple of times Mick had to quickly climb out just to stick his head out when he felt the world closing in on him. 

“I’ll tell you what, Harry, payday I’m dragging up!”³   Mick said as they started welding. 

“I’ll tell you what, no you’re not!”  Harry shot back. 

“What the *%#@* you mean ‘no I’m not?’   You turned into my dad or something? You just watch me!”  There was a tone in Mick’s voice that told Harry he wasn’t kidding around. 

“Why do you wanta’ leave all this good money?” Harry asked?  “Heck, we’re making 3 G’s a week!  I’m clearing over $2000 bucks!” 

“Yeah I know Harry.  But there’s more to life than money.  I’m tired of not knowing what day it is, and having no time for myself.  I’m burnt out and I’ve had it.” 

“Ok, where we going?” Harry sighed. 

“California!” Mick hollered. 

By noon the next day, they were almost to New Mexico…

1.  “Shutdown” - when a plant or factory shut down their operations.  Construction workers from the different trades (iron workers, boilermakers, pipe fitters, carpenters, sheet metal workers, etc.) come in and repair, rebuild, and modify.  Worn machinery and parts are replaced, assembly lines are modified or rebuilt, and sometimes completely new buildings are added.  This needs to be done as fast as possible so the plants can get back on line.  Time is money and every minute lost adds up to big money losses. Therefore as many workers are brought in as possible, and usually 2 or 3 shifts are worked. 

2.  “7/12’s” - Usually laborers work 7 days a week, 8, 10 or 12 hours a day throughout a shut down.  7/10’s and 7/12’s are most common.  Depending on local union’s contracts, time and a half starts after 8 hours; all day Saturday is time and a half, and Sunday is double time. That’s the “big” money!

3.  “Dragging up” - Iron Worker slang for quitting.  Getting your tools and hitting the trail.