On this day, 35 years ago, I walked into an enormous building filled with a sea of green metal desks, rows upon rows aligned in gridded sections like a living spreadsheet; the supervisors and their office assistants (the word ‘secretary’ was marginally PC in those days) making up the header row, and the working staff –the engineers and technical designers– filling out the rest of the rows. Each set of 2 desks shared a rotary dial telephone and a wastepaper bin. There were mostly men, as far as the eye could see, a few women scattered here and there. Engineering professions hadn’t made much of a grip on the physiologically female humans in those days.
A seasoned engineer, nicotine stained white beard that reminded me fondly of the formidable Professor Earl Gray, famous for his BANG! pop quizzes, strolled over, Sherlock Holmes pipe cradled in his hand (yes, smoking indoors within close proximity of others was absolutely and completely acceptable in those days) to welcome the new kid. Another seasoned engineer, which as it turned out was the local union rep, made a point to bend my ear. Those two gave me some great advice in my first working days, namely, participating to receive the company match in the 401k — saving is a tough notion for a young person already saddled with a view of nothing but debt. THANK YOU!!!!
I was a fresh young thing, just 21, and so fortunate to land where I did. We got to work on exciting and interesting things; flight simulators, black boxes, capturing and modelling wind profiles, designing all kinds of systems –avionic systems, information systems, technical systems, process improvement systems, systems systems systems– it was great fun.
It always felt like family, wherever I was, through all the years, because our world was so very small. Perhaps also because we chose to make it so. We were earnest in our efforts. We wanted to be excellent, and so we were.
It’s been over a year since I retired. What with the pestilence and all, there was no opportunity to gather together and celebrate, no collecting my things from my office, no face to face goodbyes. It was the ultimate Irish Exit, and the universe orchestrated it for me. Almost 34 years slogging away for what I hoped was the greater good. I fought a good fight, I finished my course.
I’ve been finding mementos acquired throughout the years, and a Glory Days II collection is emerging, which spans the gainfully employed chapter of my life (Glory Days I aligning with the Springsteen model, as yet undocumented).
I spent the better part of my life in that working chapter, and it’s taking me quite some time to adjust, since then. I miss my people.
