“The Face of Labor has Changed”

By

Gerry Niskern

Did you have any help preparing for the coming holiday that celebrates the working people in America? You probably had a lot more help from unseen workers than you realize. We all tend to take other peoples labor for granted, just like we take our country’s holidays for granted.

Our country’s unique national holiday came about because back in the late 1880’s around 10,000 workers in the garment industry walked off the job and staged a notorious strike in New York City. They demanded that common laborers in the United States have a day of recognition for their efforts.

Look around this Labor Day. Do you notice anything different? There is a lot of white hair out there. A fast growing number of the unseen workers are seniors. These older workers show up everyday, sometimes regardless of poor health. They see what needs done and they do it.

The people who hire seniors can’t say enough good things about them. They know they’re on time, with no call-in excuses of “the car broke down or the sitter didn’t show up.”

Do you know any of these people personally? Probably not, since they just melt into the blur of people who serve your needs as quickly as possible and get you on your way. When you do spot a senior on the job, remember that they are probably someone’s mom or dad, grandma or grandpa.

Most seniors didn’t expect to be working in what has always been described as their “golden years”. They’re working for various reasons. Many just plain need the extra income. Social Security doesn’t go far in this day and age. Others are stranded with no pension from life long jobs. Some were just unskilled or unlucky. As one fellow said to me, “By the time you can make ends meet, they’ve moved the ends!”

I recently attended a swim suit sale at one of our large department stores. The snowy hair on the sales lady was getting whiter by the minute as she tried to take care of the whole department by herself. When I overheard her say, “I’m getting too old for this!” I inquired about her age. She was 88.

Pat, a friend of mine, retired from the phone company a few years ago and is now a hostess at one of our local restaurants. “I ‘m working part time now in order to have money for traveling.

She went on to say, “I find that I have more patience because of my life experiences. In the restaurant business, you have to learn to not take things personally. You’re there to serve the public”

Jim retired from a large company and drives a van for the guests at a resort. He gets along with the young guys just fine. That is, after he let them know they were not to refer to him as “the old man.”

Several Seniors mentioned the fact that they were better able to relate to their grandkids because of working with the younger set.

I knew a distinguished gentleman by the name of Sam who is a Utility Person at AJ’s Preveyor of Fine Foods in Central Phoenix. He was 77. Sam raised ten children, had nineteen grandchildren and five greats. He’s retired from forty years with the U.S. Post Office; he always said, “I’m a people person and I love this job.”

When I asked him if he would be there on Labor Day, he answered cheerfully, “If it’s on Monday, I’ll be right here.”

“Have you been to a real football game lately?”

By

Gerry Niskern

The bright lights on the football field below our house have been on late in the evening the past few weeks. Down on the turf at the high school the jerseys are wet with sweat. It’s still in the upper 90’s at 7 o’clock. “Down-set-hut-hut!” The snap and the quarterback falls back and looks for the receiver. The slap of pads hitting pads and grunts, when spikes hit skin, fills the air as each linesman nails his guy. The scrimmaging goes on and on as these kids learn to play as a unit.

The boys get used to being called a few unprintables if they don’t hit hard enough, but as one young player confessed, “The worse part is the wind sprints at the end of practice.”   They won’t leave until around 8 and then it’s homework time. “If your coach is your science or math teacher, he’s harder on you than anybody.”

The quarterback doesn’t pull down 20 million a year and the halfback on this team didn’t receive a big fat signing bonus when he joined the team. They are required to sign in for workout during the summer. Most of the kids on the football squad at your high school can’t wait for the bell after last period.   Sure, there’s a little thought in the back of everyone’s mind that “maybe I could make the pros someday”, but that’s not what keeps them out there night after night. They love the game.

One of my earliest memories as a toddler back east is of sitting on the bleachers between my parents in the falling snow. While we cheered our team to victory the white stuff piled up on the blanket covering our laps. My uncle was their four- year quarterback. He was small but quick. He had to be. The steel mill towns up the river had a habit of keeping full-grown men in high school, at least through the football season. They played with little padding and Uncle Joe was rarely replaced during the game. I remember my mother screaming, “They’re piling on our boy.”

Years later in Phoenix, the big game at my high school was always on Thanksgiving Day. Back then most mothers timed the turkey to come out around six in the evening. After all, the Coyotes of Phoenix Union was playing their bitter rivals, the Mustangs of North High. The red and black against the red and blue was the best game of the year.

Forget the Pros. Think about taking your family to one of the games at your neighborhood high school. The Vikings have been gearing up. So have the Mountain Lions, Eagles, Knights, Cobras, Coyotes, Cardinals, Rockets, Demons, Trojans, Mustangs. The list goes on.

Most games start around 7 and are over early. The tickets are no more than three or four dollars. The bleachers aren’t wooden anymore and if you need a backrest, sit up top. Maybe you can show your kids or grandkids the plays you used to make or mom can teach them one of her old high school’s cheers. As you walk along the sidelines, you will feel part of the tension of the parents who have taxied these players to their practices year after year. They’ll be secretly praying that there is no “piling on” their boy.

When the band marches onto the field you’ll wish you knew the words of the school song. And I promise you, you’ll see a real football game!

“Get Over it!”

By

Gerry Niskern

Get over it! That’s what I find myself wanting to say to complainers about the heat here in Phoenix. Yes, we have high temperatures in the summer in Phoenix; and yes, it takes some getting used to. Do I need to remind everyone that we also have 7 or 8 months of beautiful weather?

Come on folks. You go from your air conditioned house to your air conditioned car to your air conditioned business or store. Those who work outside are allowed to complain, but not during our 7 or 8 months of beautiful weather, right?

I’m always amazed and a little disgusted by the weather forecasters in our valley each year at the first indication that the temperature might get up to 90 degrees, usually sometime in March. They immediately declare summer is here. Their constant chatter would have newcomers believing the first little flurry of heat will remain through the next six or seven months. Wrong. And don’t even get me started on their “Haboob” chatter.

Those of us who grew up here in the valley know that we always have warm and cool periods all through the spring and into June. We’ll have the occasional rainy periods and the heat will be turned on and off quite a few times in most households during the spring.

We long time residents also know that there is one good alternative to the high electric bills from air conditioners during the spring and fall months; evaporative coolers. During those periods when the dew point is below 55, evaporative coolers do an excellent and thrifty job. If you are lucky enough to have one on your home now, then you know that you can leave your windows open on the balmy spring days when using your cooler.

When a customer came into my dad’s cooler supply business years ago, heaven help him if he asked for help with his “swamp” cooler. Dad gave him lots of help, but first corrected the errant customer, telling them the correct name was “evaporative coolers”. I still cringe when I hear the term “swamp” cooler.

He told them the following: to service their cooler early in the spring. Use a two-speed blower motor. Install a thermostat to keep the temperatures regular during the cool nights. Install a re-circulating pump to save water and use a product to keep the alkali soft. (makes clean up a lot easier.)

The smell of fresh Aspen pads, the best, by the way, on the first hot days of spring and summer and the electric bill that is less than a fourth as with your AC will be enough to make you “get over it” and decide to stay in Arizona.

“School’s Starting Already?”

By

Gerry Niskern

The first thing I always think of when I hear that school is starting is “It’s time to get a Big Chief tablet and a new pencil.” Okay, now you know I started school in the Dark Ages!

I once asked a few people of various ages “What is the first thing that pops into your mind about school starting?” Here are some of their answers.

One five year old in my family who was eagerly waiting to start Kindergarten said,” I think I will learn to read,” and after a long pause, “And I think I will be thinking a lot.” I posed the question to his little sister who was starting Pre-School, but she “took the fifth!”

A granddaughter in middle school looked surprised at my question and answered, “Why, that’s easy. The first thing I always think about school starting is now we can go shopping for clothes.”

One fifty-something in our family answered. “I remember my first thought when I started first grade was, “I’ll get to ride the school bus with the little red-haired girl. Maybe I’ll get to hold her hand.” He continued, “I did; but after school started she got her long hair cut and I didn’t want to hold her hand anymore.”

An 89 year old friend said when school started each year, “ I worried about getting all my books. I prayed they hadn’t changed the texts so I could use the ones my older sisters had. Then off I went happily in my sister’s hand me down dresses too.”

A friend who has taught Kindergarten for many years answered. “That’s easy. Crying children; I call September the crying month. Only a third of my kids have had pre-school experience. The parents are actually the biggest problem. If they would say goodbye and just leave!”

My friend, a retired teacher who taught mathematics to seventh and eighth graders for years said, “Now when I realize it’s time for school to start again I think, great. I don’t have to go.” And then he added, “Tennis anyone?”

Last, I asked a young neighbor. She’s the mother of four grade school children and her response was, “Hallelujah!”

“ Did you wish for rain?”

By

Gerry Niskern

Haven’t the rains been great? Don’t you wish they would continue?

Actually, I know it’s hard to believe, but our valley of the “Sun” has had more than its share of floods. Over the last one hundred years, Arizona has had years of drought and then years of unbelievable rains.

After a particularly parched summer when I was eleven the rains finally came. We kids celebrated in our usual way. We put on our bathing suits and ran, laughing and shouting with upturned, wet faces down Jefferson Ave that flowed like a river with its high curbs.

But the rain didn’t stop and the earthen Cave Creek Dam finally gave way and a wall of water hit Phoenix. The raised Santa Fe railroad track along l9th Ave dammed the water and the State Capitol building had to be sandbagged, though the basement still filled with water. The l7th Ave underpass was flooded too: but later we kids watched in amazement as one of the army’s new amphibious vehicles loaded with soldiers drove right through on the way to Luke Field.

I remember a neighbor telling my folks, ”Back in l938, the Salt River overflowed its banks. The Central Avenue Bridge was holding the water and debris back. Central Phoenix was going to be flooded. Just as they were ready to light the fuse to dynamite the bridge, the water started to subside.”

Fortunately, much earlier in l870, the first mayor of Phoenix, John T. Alsap, had suggested the permanent town site of Phoenix be located on high ground, more than a mile north of the Salt River

Than, 20 years later, in February l890, during a long rainy spell the Salt, Gila, Santa Cruz and even the Colorado burst their banks and spread over farms along their courses. The Salt rose nearly seventeen feet and washed out the Tempe Railroad Bridge and Southern Pacific track between Tempe and Maricopa.

Sadly, most of the homes in the lower area were under water. Adobe houses melted like candy. Cattle and livestock were swept away.

Another extremely rainy year followed by rapid snow melt in the mountains and on February 18, l891, water that was 18 feet above normal did reach Washington Street. More than sixty families lost their homes. Telephone and telegraph lines were swept away.

I remember another summer, in the l970’s, when the rains were unrelenting. The ground was saturated and the overflowing canals couldn’t handle all the runoff. One Saturday morning we were rudely awakened as police cars drove through our neighborhood just south of the Arizona Canal with loudspeakers blaring “ATTENTION. PREPARE TO EVACUATE”.

Fortunately, about then, the rain stopped and the canal waters started to subside. Summer rains are great, but be careful what you wish for!