Post by Ozarks Tom on Aug 8, 2016 2:01:14 GMT
Since this is the Story Telling forum, I thought I'd tell a few stories about some interesting people I've known, starting with when I started out in the construction business.
When I was about 25, a very large interior finish company, walls/ceilings/floors, I was calling on as a supplier salesman asked if I'd be interested in being their Drywall Superintendent, (they didn't tell me the previous two Superintendents had quit after getting their butts whipped on job sites) and when they offered me more than twice what I was making I jumped on it. My "breaking in" period is a whole other story.
About a year into the job a guy came in my office asking for a job as a drywaller. Quiet speaking, polite, years of experience, and of course had a carpenters union card. His name was Oliver Dunlap. As happened frequently during hiring interviews, he explained he needed Tuesday afternoons off to check in with his parole officer, I didn't ask. I also didn't know the carpenters union had a policy of keeping their members dues current when they went to prison, enabling them to get a job when they got out.
I hired him, and sent him to a high rise building we were doing the "core walls" in, stairwells & elevator shafts. About a half hour later a fellow named Leo Bailey came in my office, he'd been working on the same job, and told me either I put him on another job or he was quitting. Obviously curious, I asked what the problem was. He said "you sent Oliver Dunlap to the job, and I knew him in prison. He was in for killing a guy, then he killed another guy in prison. He doesn't like me, and I don't want to go down an elevator shaft". I sent Leo to another job.
After a few days I asked the job foreman what kind of worker Oliver was. He said Oliver was the hardest and best worker on the job, followed directions, and never slowed down. Thanked me for sending him there.
About a month later the foreman called asking where Oliver was, had I sent him to another job? No, I didn't know where he was. Well, after a couple weeks I got a call one morning from Oliver. He said "Mr Tom, I'm sorry I haven't been able to be at work, do I still have a job?" I said "well, I don't know, where've you been?" He replied "mumble mumble mumble mumble", to which I said "I couldn't understand you, where have you been?" So he says "well, I've been in jail", to which I asked "why", so he answered "well, I had to kill a guy". By now I'm wondering what I've got myself into, so I asked "if you killed a guy, what are you doing out?" He explained the grand jury had "no billed" him, so no charges were filed. That made sense to me! Who wants to testify against Oliver Dunlap? Especially since the kind people he hung out with, and could testify, would probably be seeing him in prison too. So I sent him to another job.
About a month after that, I'd walked up to the reception area for a cup of coffee, and overheard a couple guys in suits ask the receptionist "who was Oliver Dunlap's supervisor?" I approached and asked "why the past tense?" They were Dallas detectives, they said Oliver had been shot and killed that morning.
It seems Oliver had a friend who lived in the Trinity River Bottoms, an undeveloped area that used to be a flood plane before Dallas built levies to keep the river out. There were numerous shacks there, no sanitation or running water, just sort of half homeless people. His friend had been sick, and Oliver would go by to bring him food & water every morning before going to work. He'd walked out with his friend's night waste to dump, and someone had unloaded a shotgun and rifle into him. Which sort of made sense, if there was ever anyone you didn't want to just wound it was Oliver.
I could tell the detectives weren't all that gung-ho about catching his killer(s). They said they had a list like a phone book of people who wanted him dead. That's the last I ever heard about Oliver.
Another interesting guy I knew then was appropriately named Jack Slaughter. A foreman from a job at SMU called telling me Jack had been arrested for manslaughter (cut a guy's throat in a bar fight), made bail and was back on the job. Problem was, Jack was showing up late, just hanging around, and was slowing the job down. I told the foreman I'd bring his check out, and to fire him. It turns out that wasn't sitting too well with the foreman. He said "I'll tell him to come see you, and you can fire him". The next morning the foreman calls to say Jack's on his way to the office, so I did what anyone would do - I got his check from the accountant, and a ball peen hammer from my truck. Jack came in and I told him his hours and work weren't cutting it, I was letting him go. I handed him his check, and he said "that's it?" To which I replied "yep". He turned on his heel and left - which was doubly good as he didn't see me slump down in my chair in relief. Jack went to prison, and a few years later I went on to start my own business.
But, that wasn't the end of Jack and me. Several years later I was on a freight elevator going to the 30th floor of a 40 story building when the door opened on the 4th floor and guess who got on, punching the button for the 29th floor. I recognized him right off the bat, he had what was called a "gotcha" eye, where he was looking two places at once. He was wearing his tool belt & harness, which contained various knives and a hatchet/hammer. I was carrying a notebook. After a very brief consideration, I said "aren't you Jack Slaughter?" He affirmed it, to which I said "I remember you from Schwartz-Jordan, who're you working for now?" He told me, and we made small talk until we reached his floor, at which time I had another slump.
A much less dangerous sheetrocker was named Harold Pruitt, better known as "Blinky". He had a nervous condition that made his eyes blink constantly. He was also the worst carpenter in the union. Whenever I needed more men for a job I'd have to call the union and take whoever they had on the bench - Blinky was always on the bench. If I need one man, I'd hire two if one was Blinkly. We were doing Town East Mall, and the job was nearing completion, so as was my habit if I was letting someone go I carried the checks out and told the layoffee he was gone. I handed Blinky his check, telling him he was done, go back to the hall. A few days later I was at the job, and who should I see on a scaffold but Blinky! I walked over and said "I thought I let you go last Friday", to which he replied "heck, if I listened to you, I'd never have a job". You just can't argue with logic like that.
Saving the best for last - Ross Perot. I was contracting all types of commercial flooring when I got a call from the facilities manager at EDS. They'd just built their new campus on Forest Lane, and wanted rubber stair treads/risers/and skirts on their two stairwells. He explained they'd already run off two other flooring contractors for poor workmanship, would I be interested in looking at them? Being supremely (over)confident, and seeing a potential gold mine in the offing I said yes. It was the worst concrete job I'd ever seen on stairs, nothing level, bumpy, crooked, and just generally terrible. It was going to take my best crew and lots of grinding & leveling compound to get them right, so I offered to do one set from landing to landing on a cost plus basis. If they liked it, I'd figure a price for the other 21 sets. Grinding concrete and using leveling compound, which requires sanding, we dusted the entire stairwell out. My guys installed the treads in a few days, and I called the manager to have him come approve/disapprove them. He said Mr Perot was due in that evening at 6 pm, could I be in his office then to go with them. It struck me as odd the facilities manager was in charge of an 11 story building and acres of other facilities, but couldn't or wouldn't make the decision himself. Anyway, I was in the office at 6 pm when Mr Perot came in dressed in his usual dark suit and white shirt. He said "got your level and straight edge?" to the manager, and upstairs we went. Keep in mind, this is place is covered in tan dust. Mr Perot grabbed the level & straight edge, and commenced checking our work, all the while getting his expensive suit covered in compound dust. He checked about 6 treads & risers, said "great work", and left. That was my first experience with a true micro manager.
Over the years I did all of EDS's flooring, price was no object, they wanted perfection. When I specialized into wood flooring I installed Mr Perot's private office (with a brass "panic button" in the floor under his desk), his dining room/living room in his home, and various other small jobs for him, always with his personal approval.
It was especially interesting to work at his home. I had to call two days before starting with the names and social security numbers of the people who'd be working there. When you arrived at his wrought iron gates, with no street number markings, you'd announce into the speaker who you were and the gates would open. As you're driving on the football field long driveway, bordered by trees on either side of the football field sized front yard, a security guard would step out of the trees on either side holding a dog, and an Uzi. You'd drive to the back of the house to be greeted by 3 people, his head of security, another guard with an Uzi, and the unarmed guard who would stay with you the entire time you were there. If there were 3 men on the job, and one needed a screwdriver from the truck, all 3 and the unarmed guard would go to the truck together. Every now and then you could hear the guard with the Uzi in the next rooms, but never see him. We figured the unarmed guard wasn't carrying in case someone overpowered him, but if he shouted the guy with the Uzi would come busting in.
A perfectionist micro manager with a paranoid streak, but overall a nice guy to do business with.
I'll tell you about Troy Aikmen and Lori Morgan, or maybe Tonya Tucker another time.
When I was about 25, a very large interior finish company, walls/ceilings/floors, I was calling on as a supplier salesman asked if I'd be interested in being their Drywall Superintendent, (they didn't tell me the previous two Superintendents had quit after getting their butts whipped on job sites) and when they offered me more than twice what I was making I jumped on it. My "breaking in" period is a whole other story.
About a year into the job a guy came in my office asking for a job as a drywaller. Quiet speaking, polite, years of experience, and of course had a carpenters union card. His name was Oliver Dunlap. As happened frequently during hiring interviews, he explained he needed Tuesday afternoons off to check in with his parole officer, I didn't ask. I also didn't know the carpenters union had a policy of keeping their members dues current when they went to prison, enabling them to get a job when they got out.
I hired him, and sent him to a high rise building we were doing the "core walls" in, stairwells & elevator shafts. About a half hour later a fellow named Leo Bailey came in my office, he'd been working on the same job, and told me either I put him on another job or he was quitting. Obviously curious, I asked what the problem was. He said "you sent Oliver Dunlap to the job, and I knew him in prison. He was in for killing a guy, then he killed another guy in prison. He doesn't like me, and I don't want to go down an elevator shaft". I sent Leo to another job.
After a few days I asked the job foreman what kind of worker Oliver was. He said Oliver was the hardest and best worker on the job, followed directions, and never slowed down. Thanked me for sending him there.
About a month later the foreman called asking where Oliver was, had I sent him to another job? No, I didn't know where he was. Well, after a couple weeks I got a call one morning from Oliver. He said "Mr Tom, I'm sorry I haven't been able to be at work, do I still have a job?" I said "well, I don't know, where've you been?" He replied "mumble mumble mumble mumble", to which I said "I couldn't understand you, where have you been?" So he says "well, I've been in jail", to which I asked "why", so he answered "well, I had to kill a guy". By now I'm wondering what I've got myself into, so I asked "if you killed a guy, what are you doing out?" He explained the grand jury had "no billed" him, so no charges were filed. That made sense to me! Who wants to testify against Oliver Dunlap? Especially since the kind people he hung out with, and could testify, would probably be seeing him in prison too. So I sent him to another job.
About a month after that, I'd walked up to the reception area for a cup of coffee, and overheard a couple guys in suits ask the receptionist "who was Oliver Dunlap's supervisor?" I approached and asked "why the past tense?" They were Dallas detectives, they said Oliver had been shot and killed that morning.
It seems Oliver had a friend who lived in the Trinity River Bottoms, an undeveloped area that used to be a flood plane before Dallas built levies to keep the river out. There were numerous shacks there, no sanitation or running water, just sort of half homeless people. His friend had been sick, and Oliver would go by to bring him food & water every morning before going to work. He'd walked out with his friend's night waste to dump, and someone had unloaded a shotgun and rifle into him. Which sort of made sense, if there was ever anyone you didn't want to just wound it was Oliver.
I could tell the detectives weren't all that gung-ho about catching his killer(s). They said they had a list like a phone book of people who wanted him dead. That's the last I ever heard about Oliver.
Another interesting guy I knew then was appropriately named Jack Slaughter. A foreman from a job at SMU called telling me Jack had been arrested for manslaughter (cut a guy's throat in a bar fight), made bail and was back on the job. Problem was, Jack was showing up late, just hanging around, and was slowing the job down. I told the foreman I'd bring his check out, and to fire him. It turns out that wasn't sitting too well with the foreman. He said "I'll tell him to come see you, and you can fire him". The next morning the foreman calls to say Jack's on his way to the office, so I did what anyone would do - I got his check from the accountant, and a ball peen hammer from my truck. Jack came in and I told him his hours and work weren't cutting it, I was letting him go. I handed him his check, and he said "that's it?" To which I replied "yep". He turned on his heel and left - which was doubly good as he didn't see me slump down in my chair in relief. Jack went to prison, and a few years later I went on to start my own business.
But, that wasn't the end of Jack and me. Several years later I was on a freight elevator going to the 30th floor of a 40 story building when the door opened on the 4th floor and guess who got on, punching the button for the 29th floor. I recognized him right off the bat, he had what was called a "gotcha" eye, where he was looking two places at once. He was wearing his tool belt & harness, which contained various knives and a hatchet/hammer. I was carrying a notebook. After a very brief consideration, I said "aren't you Jack Slaughter?" He affirmed it, to which I said "I remember you from Schwartz-Jordan, who're you working for now?" He told me, and we made small talk until we reached his floor, at which time I had another slump.
A much less dangerous sheetrocker was named Harold Pruitt, better known as "Blinky". He had a nervous condition that made his eyes blink constantly. He was also the worst carpenter in the union. Whenever I needed more men for a job I'd have to call the union and take whoever they had on the bench - Blinky was always on the bench. If I need one man, I'd hire two if one was Blinkly. We were doing Town East Mall, and the job was nearing completion, so as was my habit if I was letting someone go I carried the checks out and told the layoffee he was gone. I handed Blinky his check, telling him he was done, go back to the hall. A few days later I was at the job, and who should I see on a scaffold but Blinky! I walked over and said "I thought I let you go last Friday", to which he replied "heck, if I listened to you, I'd never have a job". You just can't argue with logic like that.
Saving the best for last - Ross Perot. I was contracting all types of commercial flooring when I got a call from the facilities manager at EDS. They'd just built their new campus on Forest Lane, and wanted rubber stair treads/risers/and skirts on their two stairwells. He explained they'd already run off two other flooring contractors for poor workmanship, would I be interested in looking at them? Being supremely (over)confident, and seeing a potential gold mine in the offing I said yes. It was the worst concrete job I'd ever seen on stairs, nothing level, bumpy, crooked, and just generally terrible. It was going to take my best crew and lots of grinding & leveling compound to get them right, so I offered to do one set from landing to landing on a cost plus basis. If they liked it, I'd figure a price for the other 21 sets. Grinding concrete and using leveling compound, which requires sanding, we dusted the entire stairwell out. My guys installed the treads in a few days, and I called the manager to have him come approve/disapprove them. He said Mr Perot was due in that evening at 6 pm, could I be in his office then to go with them. It struck me as odd the facilities manager was in charge of an 11 story building and acres of other facilities, but couldn't or wouldn't make the decision himself. Anyway, I was in the office at 6 pm when Mr Perot came in dressed in his usual dark suit and white shirt. He said "got your level and straight edge?" to the manager, and upstairs we went. Keep in mind, this is place is covered in tan dust. Mr Perot grabbed the level & straight edge, and commenced checking our work, all the while getting his expensive suit covered in compound dust. He checked about 6 treads & risers, said "great work", and left. That was my first experience with a true micro manager.
Over the years I did all of EDS's flooring, price was no object, they wanted perfection. When I specialized into wood flooring I installed Mr Perot's private office (with a brass "panic button" in the floor under his desk), his dining room/living room in his home, and various other small jobs for him, always with his personal approval.
It was especially interesting to work at his home. I had to call two days before starting with the names and social security numbers of the people who'd be working there. When you arrived at his wrought iron gates, with no street number markings, you'd announce into the speaker who you were and the gates would open. As you're driving on the football field long driveway, bordered by trees on either side of the football field sized front yard, a security guard would step out of the trees on either side holding a dog, and an Uzi. You'd drive to the back of the house to be greeted by 3 people, his head of security, another guard with an Uzi, and the unarmed guard who would stay with you the entire time you were there. If there were 3 men on the job, and one needed a screwdriver from the truck, all 3 and the unarmed guard would go to the truck together. Every now and then you could hear the guard with the Uzi in the next rooms, but never see him. We figured the unarmed guard wasn't carrying in case someone overpowered him, but if he shouted the guy with the Uzi would come busting in.
A perfectionist micro manager with a paranoid streak, but overall a nice guy to do business with.
I'll tell you about Troy Aikmen and Lori Morgan, or maybe Tonya Tucker another time.
