Newspaper Page Text
IN HIE TRENCHES FOR THE IDDOIJ: (TASS
hfltofe
<$*. 'm
■■Si
w ml
-
jay
P- #- f
. v ’
S ', missed my ride. I had the mistaken notion that I could just
pick up my work ticket and drive to the site. The van had left
without me. Now I'd take my car and find it on my own.
The sprawling Eastside shopping center that runs from the
shops adjoining Kroger to the corner of Barnett Shoals and Gaines
School roads defines a massive market for the legions of academia.
It would be my workplace for the day. The location is an easy jaunt
from the various neighborhoods along College Station Road, which
provides access to both the scattered duplexes of student housing
and the deeply shaded old homes that exist about one per speed
bump on the streets east of Milledge Avenue. To the north of this
shopping nexus lies Winterville, and great swath* of wooded subur
bia stretch to the east. Housing for students and University staff is
everywhere, and so are the businesses that serve their needs.
Driving up to the site, I noticed rows of small shops, as yet
vacant, and work crews spread out like so many hives, both inside
the renovated buildings and out in the lots, where landscaping
was underway. After a few minutes of bewildered searching, I came
upon the crew. Four African-Americans, three men and a woman,
standing in the middle of a huge parking lot, waiting. It was 8
a.m. We were looking for a white Chevrolet pick-up.
“How's it goin'?" I asked rather generally and shyly to these
strangers. "What are we doing today?"
"As little as possible," answered a middle-aged
man with glasses and a baseball cap, standing
near a van that appeared to be his.
"It looks like there's a lot of stuff going up
around here," I offered, hoping to break the ice
among my coworkers. There was not much ice to
break.
"This city has been pitiful!" said the guy with
the van. "Record unemployment, no new industry.
It's been like that for years. Everything's chang
ing now, now that Heidi's on the job! You see this
construction out here? It's all because of her.'
I was in no mood for kudos to our fearless
leader. I had. been in Athens for nine years,
received my master's in Social Work in 2000,
and the closest thing I'd been able to attain to
meaningful work in my field involved driving 150
to 200 miles a day to distant counties for home
visits. So political debate ensued as we awaited
the white Chevrolet pick-up. Anthony (not his
real name), who started off with the "doing-as-
little-as-possible" line, turned out to be a staunch
defender of the Protestant work ethic. As he held
forth on the merits of entrepreneurship, thrift and the purchase of
cheap supplies at Family Dollar, his comrades listened skeptically.
I guess I would say I was somewhat to the left of the "skeptical"
category: I just believed the man was jam-packed with delusions!
The time for polemics was soon over. The unwelcome vehicle
had arrived, and with it, our assignment. We were to landscape the
small concrete islands that adorned an otherwise undifferentiated
mass of parking lot. We were in advance of the planting crews. The
task was to convert areas overloaded with rock and red Georgia
clay into level plantabie regions.
Our foreman was a big, bleach-blonde white guy wearing a
black NASCAR windbreaker. Me spoke a rapid, almost syllable-free
Southern patois that mostly could be understood by emphasis and
gesture. That is to say, I could piece together his meaning by cer
tain key words and by his aggressive bossiness. Actually, this guy
became quickly reviled. His function was to m^ke us step lively, to
work with energy, and to direct us individually as if we were com
ponents of one giant piece of earth-moving equipment. In fact,
that's what we'd become!
The general feel of things was that he was aggravating—some
times downright abusive—and, in any case, only there to provoke
harder, quicker work out of us. Sure, we could have taken longer
to do this thankless, poorly paying work; but would this company
tolerate coughing up another S60-S100 just to let a crew work in
tolerably relaxed conditions? Not cost effective, that.
Mostly it was a rake-and-shovel party. We moved like a team
ing, multi-limbed monster, flinging sizable rocks on the truck,
splitting rock-and-soil conglomerates with our
shovels, drawing mound upon mound of rough,
moist soil across form
ic ing beds, flattening it
/:. '
o * *’ * * * #
to meet the lips of concrete. In my caffeinated, sleep-deprived
vigilance, I worked with energy I should not have had. The
boss, not one for bothering with people's names, nicknamed me
"Spiaerman." How flattering. "Tha's a hole," he'd say, "fill it, fill
it u' now! Tha's a high spot, got to make it low, make it flat, don't
y' see thas a high spot? Ah need a shvTman, shvTman! Whe'as my
rake man? I need a rake man righ'cheer."
"This must be Chain Gang 101," I thought. It reminded me of
a bleak scene from Roots. Along with our crew, the two company
men (including NASCAR Man) alternated in operating a Bobcat.
It spun about and charged, gulping hills of rocky red earth and
scraping the areas we had worked upon perfectly flat with its claw.
At times it approached perilously close to our heels. Its hulkr
power caused me to see our site as a Jurassic parking lot.
Fortunately, the Rake and Shovel Brigade worked well togetV r .
I took up conversation with a man I'll call Omar, who'd come here
from Michigan a few months before, claiming to have lost two cars
to expensive repairs and so currently homeless. He was a musician
a rapper. He said he liked the political debate earlier, and tha» he
favored political songs. When he told me his punk influences, I
talked about shows I'd seen back in the day.
We all savored NASCAR Man temporarily walking away from the
site, a welcome break for rage and ridicule. A bad attitude? You
decide. It was a cool spring day, and the unseasonable cold, cloudy
spell had been a relief to most locals. This was the end of it. Very
breezy, the wind would have been much trouble had the soil not
been moist. The day had grown softly sunny: a beautiful time not
be tied to this spot! While we worked. I learned a little about the
others. The woman on the job said she was a relation of Edward
Wright, the man gunned down by Athens police some years ago.
She was wearing a shirt that had a large, dramatic graphic of light
ning, which said something on the order of "All Your Weapons
Will Avail You Not," quoting a biblical verse. She later
explained that Wright had had the shirt silk-screened two
days before his demise. The reality of all this was pretty
hard to grasp, especially in the midst of the day's work.
Owing to the jabbing of our latter-day overseer, we
had fired ourselves up mightily to master the tas* at hand,
and did so pretty quickly. I think we were all proud of our work
despite the conditions. Even NASCAR Man could not help remark
ing how well it had gone. Every lull gave rise to some interesting
dialogue. Anthony could not help but rhapsodize about the op
portunities for those of us who would just work.
He was full of tales of little guys who made it big.
He gave us such tips as sending us down to the
Dollar Store to buy a set of cleaning supplies, and
then just launching ourselves into business! He
did not fail to mention that the company over us
at the moment was a great company to work for
and paid well.
But the true hero of his sermon was Opran
Winfrey. "Oprah has changed the world," he as
serted confidently. I asked. "How?"
"She got everybody houses on one show,"
he answered. (For some reason Omar and I both
thought he said, "She got everybody high on one
show.") Omar discreetly commented, "Everyone's
got an opinion, doesn't matter if it makes any sense."
With slowing steps and less frequent shovel-loads, the vigor of
our work subsided through the later hours. The tendons of my toes
began to cramp. I still had energy, but by slowing down because
of the cramping I began to feel how bone-tired I was becoming.
Anthony said he had a hole in his heart and was drawing two dis
ability checks (along with funds from his various ventures). I could
not understand how he was not either lying or truly out of his
mind to be out here. But then, I was out here, too.
Edmund J. Smith
To be continued...
&KLt>
MULTIPURPOSE
FACILITY
I * J
| U ( 27 Neil Hambuigcr / Dr. El Suavo / Pcie McBrayer }
| Th i VL Unknown Hinson / Richard Shericy &
All God s Children
i < . i jV Blue Flashing light / X/amcn / j|
later Days / Vegas Under Fire
I ( 29 Old Scrapes (ex Grand Fury) / Mic Harrison
& The High Score / The Help' / Pcarlcnd
! .'• ( !• Gull / Karbomb Times Up
• S l It Still Small Voice & The joylul Noise /
Commander Chameleon / The Shut Ups
Chamo Ivcnts picsenls Salsa Night j
M 7 2 Whose House Hello lefty The Reeds
T T i AutoVaugl^r~People Noise
312 EAST BROAD STREET • 706 543-0797.
www.iastywotkl.net • for Private Fames & Band Bookings
Dtnkl R. Pdkcn,
. 706-433-2116
1-888-542-4002
ta
COLOUIGLL
□ANKCRQ
t PCHUtCH REAL IV
Each oma is woeroeomr
OWNED AMO OfOUTtX)
3 706-543-4000 a
SUTTOST LOCAL MUSIC
Mm* Mtop* • 4BMM • Opwn Roar pim W
Th Roan. VfcJhwJ CMna* hurt Pcrtfi Bach D«cx ovariM** tr« Cm*.
Lantanl aria tram UGABOomwm * 1275.000 • (MX i LEFT
til Mm to • SIMM • tow fln tom CmM* Ctotom • Urn* tan
• 3BMBA • IMMlMWlHIMMWSWi • QMI
(Q Inn «• mm • «M tom • MWww • ** m sis* • tom* mt t • iwjb
CmtffMfiHft • UMllM • IMAM
I • MM ton • DM • tM*r • tom M • WUto
to* M tx tom*** • m-lM • «M Man • ft • I Ok* • Up ladyrt • tKSJW
wwmm m»awi«*» mb* nw»».ic cmm» $m»*««*m. »r«jot
M 4 i*tmt • MM Howl • FMcMYM • MM to* • BOX*
NMM Cm* 3MV1SM • 3 yt cNC«K» to Gntoamcltow at CiMk> $129,000
moMtMaat • *oo»«*osMMKtfa* • u m • **(■»***« • c«ooo
MMMMCM • 3MVUKnM4J»irHw • OkMtobltoNMDw • U24JW3
on amt (mm mm • *m • *** mm • am • m .« »• tmm
Witolton ♦30Vaw«9nw*ltowCgMMMM«»
9MV1MNmmtorRm* • Normtonm • MMFtoon • FMcatYM
482V29A lto*oto*f* CmM* tor ttoto |120tyww9i ♦ 4 Car
j WTrw.AthcnaHomc.to
C0M1H6
_SC0H...
Best Authentic Mexican Fpoc
& MargaKitas iN TowN!
FULL BAR 7 Days A Week!
1.T95 College* Station Rci. Athens. (i.\ 30605
(706) 549-5933
w ww.athenslafiesta.com
8 FlAGPOlf.COM-JUNE 27,2007
NEWS & FEATURES I ARTS & EVENTS I MOVIES I MUSIC I COMICS & ADVICE I CLASSIFIEDS