There is a lot to be said for a society that sets aside a special day to celebrate accomplishments that come from labor, both our own and that of others. Whether we get paid to do a job, volunteer to help others, take care of our families or help a neighbor, it is labor – in its many forms – that gives dignity and purpose to our lives.
There are no “menial” tasks, for all work is important and necessary if we are to maintain and advance our quality of life. It would be impossible on this Labor Day to meaningfully recognize everyone’s contributions. Instead, I would like to highlight and thank a group of workers who often irritate us.
If you travelled anywhere along Sunset Boulevard, Main Street, Bronson, or Talbot this past six months, you can’t miss them by their attire – boots, denim jeans and bright fluorescent yellow and orange vests. Their crown is a hard hat. They are the ones who slow down our steady progress on the roadways with construction. Frustrated, you try to find detours and shortcuts only to encounter them once again. You can’t help but think, “Give me a break!,” only to realize you just repeated their slogan.
Making it possible for people to move from place to place, however, is only one of their many specialties. Constructing bridges, buildings, airplanes, cars, ships, utilities and homes are some of their other tasks. They provide us with a place to work, to be entertained, to worship, to learn, to heal, to shop or to stay when travelling. Most importantly, they provide the crown jewel of them all – a home.
Working in the harshest conditions, the weather is rarely their friend. Winter snows crown their hard hats, torrential rains soak their clothes and the hot sun beats down on their bronze, muscled bodies. Often, they sink in slime and muck. They lift, pull, hammer, weld, and drill beyond their strength. They move their heavy machinery with all the skill of a tank commander. They work at heights reserved for birds and at depths where worms, insects and rocks call home. Sometimes they must first break apart before they can build up.
In addition, when mother nature strikes us a blow, they maintain and restore our utilities and infrastructures, returning us to our previous comfort levels.
Days are long, from dawn to dusk, and once at the jobsite they are on their feet for most of the day. There’s no leaving for lunch or a latte. Rather, their “lunch bunch” is a group of other hard hats eating out of coolers and lunch boxes and drinking coffee from a thermos. Sani-cans provide “mother nature” facilities.
Other than a paycheck, what possible reward is there in enduring such conditions? I have to believe that it is leaving something behind that could last for generations. What pride they must have when they drive over or drive by their tangible accomplishments.
How many of us work most of our lives and have anything to show for it, literally? Rarely can we point to anything and say “I did that, I made it and it will outlive me.” That’s not to minimize the impact our ideas, our words, our help, our service and our vision will have on others – but our accomplishments are more elusive than concrete. So all you hard hats, “take a break” and relax this Labor Day. We may not always “show the love” as we pass you by, but know that without your toil it would be impossible to fulfill our dreams and enjoy our lives.
Tish Gregory is a free-lance writer. She can be contacted at tishgregory@aol.com
