I had just returned from four days at our Roseburg, Oregon plant to my office at headquarters in Tacoma. I checked the daily reports on my computer then looked at the time. 4:25 P.M. Friday afternoon. 5 Oāclock couldnāt come soon enough for me as I really was looking to get out of this suit and tie and get comfortable and mix myself a tall rum and coke. I was looking forward to seeing my lovely wife and my two children, Michael, 8 and Katie, 6 and find out how their day at school went. I wanted to talk to my wife and check with her about her week. I was also looking forward to some fun in bed with her as my return from a trip usually brought out her wild side.
I turned to look over my shoulder as my office has a large window, not looking outside but Iām able to see the main production floor of NECO, my employer. My reverie was broken as my secretary buzzed and said, āMr. Carter, you have a visitor. Iām sending him in per his request.ā I thought that was rather strange.
This long haired older man with wire rimmed glasses wearing a brown pinstriped suit walked in with a valise in hand and said, āYouāre Henry James Carter, correct?ā
I nodded and said, āYes sir. Thatās the name my parents gave me. How can I help you?ā
He opened his valise and pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to me and said, āMr. Carter, youāve been served.ā He turned and quickly left my office. I ripped open the envelope and it was a notice of divorce from my wife, Susie, that was sent from my lawyer. It was issued on the grounds of adultery. I didnāt understand this as I had only been with one woman in my life and that woman was my wife Susie.
I called Susieās cell and was informed that by a robotic voice that I was blocked from calling that number. I got similar notification when I tried calling Susieās parents, her brother or her sister. For some reason they had all blocked me.
Then my secretary buzzed me and said, āMr. Carter, thereās a gentleman that just called and says he needs to meet you out by your car right now. He says heās your brother-in-law.ā I rushed to my car and there next to it was my sister-in-lawās husband, Tony, standing next to two suitcases but he looked at me like he wanted to kill me.
āTony,ā I queried,ā whatās going on? I was just served with divorce papers from Susie and Iām at a complete loss as to what sheās talking about.ā
Tony stepped forward, shouting in my face, āDonāt give me that bullshit! Iāve seen the pictures. How stupid do you think we are? Youāre lucky Iām on the police force or Iād beat your ass to a pulp right now.ā
I was in shock and asked, āWhat pictures? What are you talking about?ā
He was walking towards his car now and said, āDonāt act stupid with me. The ones you had on your computer with you fucking those sluts, shithead. One of your bimbos bitched to Susie and she found a guy to break into your computer and found them. Youāre lucky she even packed you some clothes. Now stay away from her and the kids if you know whatās good for you.ā Tony got into his car and sped away.
I put my bags in my trunk and headed back to my office. My secretary, Kali, asked whether or not I was going home as it was now past 5:00 and I said, āIt looks like I no longer have a home to go to,ā as I held up the papers I had just been served. She silently mouthed, āIām so sorry.ā
I looked out at the production floor and thought about the first time I walked into the plant almost 13 years ago. I had just graduated high school where I had taken several machinist and metallurgy classes. My uncle Don was a CNC operator and made big bucks and I thought it was cool that he made rocket parts during the week and on weekends his boss let him use the machine to make custom wheels for motorcycles and show cars. Thatās what gave me the bug to become a machinist. Uncle Don had even taken me to a couple of big machinist trade shows in Seattle and Portland.
When I had applied for work there, it was called Mattsonās Metals and Machining. Old man Mattson was a gruff old coot and very demanding of his men, though underneath held a heart of gold. He told me heād hire me as a fill in and I thought Iād be working when someone didnāt show up. What it really meant was I was sweeping up and bringing stock up and moving partially machined parts between stages.
As I was doing this, I noticed that they were using AEIās multi-head machines which was capable of doing six machining functions without removing the workpiece. Here they were only doing one function then having another identical machine doing the second function and so on down the line. When I asked the foreman, Burl, why they were doing it that way he said, āListen kid! Thatās the way itās done here. Donāt rock the boat.ā I stewed all day over that and had trouble sleeping thinking of all the money being wasted.
First thing the next morning, I walked into Mr. Mattsonās office and said, āSir, since you like throwing money away, why donāt you throw some my way?ā
He scowled and his furled brow let me know he was unsure how to answer me. Rising from behind his desk, he yelled āWhat in the HELL are you talking about, young man? I work hard for my money and so do all my men.ā
I said, āSir, down on the line, you have several AEI machines and those machines are capable of doing multiple operations without removing the workpiece. Instead only one operation is done per machine, thereby wasting hundreds if not thousands of man hours a year needlessly. Is there a reason you are doing it that way?ā I didnāt tell him about the conversation with the foreman on the floor.
Mr. Mattson glared at me and said, āCome on son, show me,ā and we walked down to the production floor and I explained how the AEI machines could be set up to do the multiple operations. The shop foreman was clenching his fists and giving me dirty looks. The old man looked at the foreman and asked, āWhy havenāt you been using these machines to their full potential?ā