My first factory job was working at Donner Hanna Coke. I was 18. At night, this filthy plant took on a magical cast with its tall cracking towers speckled with lights and the glowing coals in the furnaces. Water spraying into these coals to produce coke exploded into steam, billowing clouds of gray and orange high into the sky. It was beautiful.
Still, it was hot, dirty work for everyone.
After a few months as a day laborer I was selected to fill in for the guys who worked in the light oil section for their summer vacations. Once an hour, I would climb around on tanks and towers, measure the liquid levels, record temperatures and pressures, and chart them. Based on how they were changing, a series of five huge (and very loud pumps) would be manually adjusted. The big deal was not to let any of the tanks filled with highly flammable liquids go empty or overflow. If the pumps lost suction and started to cavitate, oh man, sirens went off and it took several men a couple of hours of craziness to get everything back in balance. I know, because once–only once–I let this happen.
All this measuring, charting, and adjusting only took about 20 minutes if you hurried. Our shifts rotated, and when I was on second or third shift I carried my pillow right through the plant entrance, standing in line to punch in alongside much older men whose jobs would be hard and hot all night. Whichever shift I came in on, when I got to our shack of an office there was always fresh coffee.
I was very focused on tasks. Tasks were all that motivated me. Tasks were the only way I knew to please people. Since I was very good at doing things, I earned the plant management’s respect, and made it up out of day laborer status in three months. I was pretty happy that summer (and, I was making $3.10 an hour, great wages for a kid in South Buffalo in 1969). I never once thought about how these guys might feel about me carrying in and out my pillow. I never once made coffee at the end of my shift. These thoughts never occurred to me.
One day on shift change, Vince sat me down. He held up the coffee pot, shook it to show it was empty, asked why I never made coffee. I was puzzled at first, then I saw this was a task I should have done. I explained that it wasn’t on the checklist. Vince talked to me that day about people. That sometimes we do things that aren’t on a checklist just because we care about other people. I still struggle with finding a balance between task and people, between doing and being.
In Christianity, who we are as people is the inextricable foundation for anything we do that will please Him. Too often we, and churches, have this backwards.
See Alan Knox’s Blog and my comments on this for a biblical perspective.
Art, enjoyed your entry “Have You Made the Coffee”. Interesting to me what things we remember from our youth, and what things God uses to mold our character.
I’m praying for the Workshop this week.
In His Care, Court
Hey Court,
We share a love of story as a means of communication, so your encouragement is especially meaningful. The workshop would have been last week, but we have postponed it. Most of the people coming dropped out, and others hadn’t yet finished the prep work. There were a few in this area, and we are talking this week about doing it over a few weekends, which will spread out the prep work for everyone as well.
So, did you decide to RV your upcoming trip? Praying for you and your family.