Summer 1978. Woodland, CA
the summer after high school my brother and i got jobs working the graveyard shift
at a pvc pipe factory. we were each put in charge of one of the production lines.
pipe that came off the line fell into a large metal rack. when the rack got full you
fastened the bundle of pipes with a steel band and rolled it into an open area for the
forklift to pick up. the rack was heavy and hard to maneuver.
as you waited for the forklift the new pipe coming off the line fell onto the floor.
the longer it took to get your bundle picked up the more pipes piled up.
stopping the line was not an option.
before the forklift could take the bundle the inspector had to inspect it. he’d peer
down each pipe looking for air bubbles, then measure the thickness with his
micrometer. if anything was out of sorts he’d yell “bad pipe!”.
if that happened you had to cut the steel bands, pull out the offending pipe or pipes,
replace them with good ones, reband the bundle, and wait for the inspector to
come back.
by the time you got your empty rack back to the line the floor could be covered
with pipe. you’d scramble to load them up, filling the rack, then start the process
over. just like in a nightmare.
it was the most stressful and exhausting job i’ve ever had.