The phone line grew quiet. Then, after a pause, "Ddn’t you hear? Elmer killed himself."
It was the only place he had ever worked and in his fifties it was hard if not impossible for him to start again as anything but a Wal-Mart greeter. You can auction off the equipment to the highest bidder and then you can convert the building to some purpose de jour. But what of the people? The building only housed the equipment, the equipment only processed the materials but the engines and the cotton or the tires or the cars were built by the people. The people who stayed late or came in early or worked the weekend because they cared about the company and about doing a good job.
So as I read the brochure about how many dryer machines and balers and line blenders, I think about the people that stood at those machines for year upon year to feed their children. And I think about Elmer, how many Elmer’s worked in this plant only to be swept out the door like the dirt on the floor as their reward for caring? Even more I think about a government that wants to jam a rectal thermometer the size of an oak tree up my ass while it tells me it’s good for me! While it exports jobs and opportunity in the name of the holy campaign contribution.
Angry? Damn right I’m angry! Angry enough to think it’s not our industrial base we should be tearing down but our government that would so carelessly put us under the hammer!
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