A Road Well-Traveled. Thomas Walsh

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СКАЧАТЬ what Ski said. Then he leaned in even closer to Ski to respond. Ski liked the importance he felt when he was part of a secret discussion in front of everyone else in the bullpen.

      “Do you think our operations people know what’s going on?”

      Ski smiled with a twinkle in his eye and said, “All dey care about is getting da steel painted and shipped to General Motors. Da rest of da details are an accounting problem as far as der concerned.”

      Tim leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. He thought to himself. This is where Ski would get himself in trouble. Ski new about problems but didn’t speak up. He didn’t want to make waves. It was less difficult for him to let things go until they blew up in his face. There was always hell to pay for a few days, but management eventually forgot until the next crisis. That is until they had enough and put Tim in charge. Tim resolved that he wouldn’t let himself fall into the same trap.

      “Ski, let’s go pay our friends at Toll Coater a visit next week. Please set it up. I’ll let our operations people know we are planning a visit.

      Ski looked down and said, “O’K Tim, if dat’s what you want to do.”

      Tim could tell from the slow way that Ski swung his chair around to his desk that he did not want to make the trip. Ski hated being put in the middle of a possible confrontation with the people he knew at Toll Coater and now possibly operation’s personnel he worked with as well.

      ***

      A week later Tim and Ski drove over to Ann Arbor to spend the night before calling on Toll Coater in the morning. They stayed in Ann Arbor because Tim liked a restaurant there called the Gandy Dancer.

      The Gandy Dancer was located inside the Amtrak Depot in Ann Arbor. The name came from railroad workers who travelled the track beds looking for loose spikes to be hammered back into the ties. It was a fun place that erupted into bells and whistles whenever a train pulled in.

      Tim and Ski got a table near the trackside windows. It gave them a ringside seat for the fun. Ski enjoyed the commotion and party atmosphere as Tim expected he would. It was a good opportunity to unwind and get to know each other.

      Over the next two hours Tim and Ski shared background on their lives and families. In many respects they were a lot alike – from immigrant families, middle class, Catholic, worked hard for what they had. Just born in different times that shaped them into what they were. When the conversation drifted it invariably moved back to the common ground of business.

      “Ski, we should make a schedule to visit each one of our major business partners once a year. Who do you think we should visit next?”

      “Dat’s easy,” Ski said in a slightly slurred voice loosened by a few stiff drinks.

      He leaned forward with a thick shock of hair hanging across his forehead. “Coil Slitting in Cincinnatah.”

      “Why them?” Tim asked.

      “Cause when you see dem, you’ll see da best. Dey know der business. It runs like a Swiss watch. Good quality, high yields, never a shrink problem. And nice! Dey are da easiest people to get along with. It must have sometin’ to do wid where der from.”

      The conversation jogged Ski’s memory about a war time experience in the Philippines.

      “My unit jus’ arrived at a town ‘cross a river from where der was Jap battalion dug in. An outfit from Cincinnatah was launch’n an attack to root dose bastards out of der. All through da night we watched the flash of explosions and gunfire from our foxholes along the river. We heard dose Cincinnatah boys fight’n, scream’n and dy’n and all da time we was safe in our foxholes eat’n, drink’n, read’n letters from home. All the time dey was dy’n!”

      Ski stopped unable to go on, choked with emotion. But he had to finish his story. It had been bottled up in him for 30 years. It had to get out.

      After wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, Ski forced himself to finish the story.

      “Da next morn’n the battle was over. Da Cincinnatah boys had won. We moved out and crossed da river to mop up any Japs dey did’n get. On da way we was passed by trucks go’n de other way. I turned to see what dey was carry’n. I saw the bodies of does brave boys stacked like cord wood with der bare feet stick’n outta da back of the trucks. A sight I’ll never forget. Never.”

      ***

      Tim and Ski worked together for several years. They developed a mutual respect for each other. Tim knew Ski’s weaknesses but he also knew his strengths. He relied on those strengths and grew to admire him for the unique individual he was. When Tim was promoted again he toasted Ski at his farewell party. He saw the appreciation in his eyes before Ski looked away.

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