Document text
Er. Roaldus Richmond
Assistant Director
Federal Writers' Project
VETERAN QUARRYMAN
The grassgrown road wound upgrade between irregular
heaps of waste granite and past abandoned quarryholes filled
with dark green water. The vicious chatter of jack -hammers
sounded on the sunlit air ahead. A turn brought the quarry
yard into sight. Sun -blackened men stood with bodies braced
to bear the hard vibration of the pneumatic hammers as they
chewed into the gray stone. The owner, a young man with a
pleasant brown face, was at work with the others. Beyond
the great boom and mast of the derrick was the quarry.
It was only a small quarry, dropping to the edge of
an older hole full of clean water. The sun beat harshly
down into it. Under the dust the workers were burned dark-
ly. Each man went about his task with a calm patience, an
assurance of manner. They were stolid under the heat and
racket, indifferent somehow, each one doing his awn job.
In the granite business there is very little bossing and
no slave -driving tactics. This is true in the sheds as
well as the quarries.
A short stocky old man went by carrying two long heavy
iron bars on one shoulder. He was dust -covered with a face
like wrinkled leather and faded red -rimmed eyes. The deep
creases in the back of his neck were dust -lined. With
amazing balance and surety the little old man started the
descent into the pit, walking down the steep wall of junbled
blocks as if he were walking down a flight of stairs, the
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heavy bars on his shoulder. When we later followed him
down we had to use our hands to accomplish the descent.
He was drilling out a block, throwing one leg over
the powerfully vibrating drill, his whole body shaking.
The dust rose thickly about him, at times nearly shutting
him from sight. In the same corner a husky young man was
methodically driving a line of plugs into their holes, one
stroke to each plug as he moved along the row. Slowly the
line of cleavage appeared, barely discernible at first,
then widening.
The old man paused after a time, cleaned the rock and
his clothing with blasts from the air -hose, and turned to
talk with us.
What, the compressor? It cost 0.„900 they say. It
helps out a lot too. Yes, I been here an the Hill quite
awhile, he said, smiling and spitting to clear the dust.
I came here in 1892 when I was thirteen years old. We came
from Quebec. I've worked the quarries ever since except
for six years in the Ely Copper Mine. I was there from
1900 to 1906 six years. Then I came back to the Hill
again.
It not so good any more, though. I didn't work from
December fifth to February first. Some of the quarries are
only working three days now, just three days a week. After
that big strike in 1922 I didn't work for two years, two
years without working a day. That's no good.
I'm sixty-five now. That's pretty old... I raised
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a family here, but there's only one girl home now. The others
have all gone away. No, none of my boys are in the granite
business. They didn't want to get in it and I didn't want
them to. I didn't want them in it. It's no place for a
young fellow, the quarries.
It was bad in 1922 all right. We had some fun with
these new fellows though... We had quite a lot of fun with
them just the same. We made it some uncomfortable for some
of those new fellows. They didn't know what they were coming
to. They didn't know the business. They were farmers most-
ly. They worked cheap. Le call them Scabs, we still don't
like them on the Hill. Who I blame though was the Union men
who helped those new fellows, showed them what to do. Yes,
we're all Union men here, supposed to be anyway... (was
evasive here about what he meant by saying supposed to be).
hope it don't happen again, a strike like that. There was
a little trouble last week but it didn't amount to much. We
only stayed out about a week. But it hurts to lose time,
any time. Well, I'm getting old now, it don't matter much
to me any more.
Don't worry about the boss being mad for talking to me.
He ain't looking anyway... The old man laughed.
The derrick boom was swinging now as the derrickman
cleaned up the yard. The block that had been split by
sledge on plug -and -feathers was ready to be lifted from the
quarry. The brawny young man climbed out carrying his tools,
stopping a moment to question the sixty-five year old veteran.
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Together they inspected the loosened blocks bending to peer
and point, shake their heads, then finally nod in agreement.
The derricknan appeared on the rim above, a broad bulky
figure, red of face and arms. "Don't fall off there," he
called down to the two. "Yeah, that's okay. I can hook
onto that all right. But I Got to finish cleaning the yard
first."
only been here about a year, our informant went on.
Le opened this up just about a year ago. 't',!elve gone down
this far. Quite a lot of stone we've taken out of here.
,e sell it where? Anywhere we can, any -Where they'll buy
it. Some of it goes to Pennsylvania. It's pretty good
stone, but there's a lot of waste. It'll be better as we
cc down. There's plenty good stone dun in back there.
That old qualry there was a big one. It was Janes Brothers
and they got some real good stone out of it. It's probably
three hundred feet deep in there. It was a good one.
Yes, I've done about everything in quarry work.
small quarry like this, everybody has to do everything.
In the big ones each man has his own special work, he don't
do nothing else. gut here we do everything that has to be
done, you know. Only six -seven of us working. I like it
better than in a big quarry though.
still strong. I'll work same more years probably.
laybe I'll last as long, as the work lasts. I like it all
right living on the Hill. I got a nice little house in
7pper Graniteville. In the summer the boys come home with
their families. Yes,. I'm a grandfather now... araniteville
is a quiet place to live. It didn't used to be so quiet but
now it is. You see families sitting on their porch.es. It's
nice in the long summer evenings, cool after getting this
sun all day in the quarry.
I better et back to work, I guess. I been an
that stone all day. I'll have it ready to came out by four
thirty when we quit. I think so anyway. It's slaw work.
Take it easy? Don't worry, I'll take it easy, all
right. I'm old enough to know how to do that.