Yes Sir, We’re Carpenters.
I’m sure that every family has its stories that make the rounds and eventually fade into oblivion. The following is one that I heard as a kid, but I couldn’t remember the names of the guys involved. I asked my Aunt Betty about it, but she had never heard the story. Seems the ladies of the family sat in their circle and talked about lady things, like cooking and sewing and such while the men swapped the men stories. At the last reunion, I asked my Uncle Ralph if he remembered it and he told me who they were, Marshall Leary and Josh Greene.
Sometime way back nearly a hundred years ago, two of the young men from our clan had heard that carpenters were making big money in Texas building the oil derricks and construction that was associated with the burgeoning industry. They decided to head out there and make their fortunes. They had no tools, but their dads did and between them, they assembled a respectable collection. Next, the two of them rounded up every last cent they could scrounge, bought a couple of train tickets and away they went.
Arriving out west, they stowed their clothes at a boarding house and went in search of employment. The foreman in charge told them the rate that he would pay apprentice carpenters. One of them asked how much the journeyman carpenters earned. The difference was substantial, so much so that he immediately exclaimed that they were, in fact, journeymen themselves and wanted to sign on for the higher wages. I’m sure that he was hoping that they would be placed among some men with whom they could blend as they gained what they lacked in skill and experience.
The foreman was skeptical, since both Marshall and Josh were obviously not out of their teens. “Now boys, be honest with me. I’ll be glad to teach you and help you if you want to be apprentices, but if you are lying to me, I’ll fire you!”
“Yes, sir! We’re carpenters!”
Still unconvinced, the boss man asked to see their tools. They opened their boxes to reveal well-worn but well cared for hammers, saws, planes, files, folding rulers and anything else that a carpenter would be expected to have. “Well boys, I don’t see how you could be carpenters at your age, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’m gonna let you fellas build a tool shed today. I want it to be eight feet by ten feet with a door on one side and a window on the other. Then I’ll know if you are really carpenters or not.”
He showed them the spot and the materials and then went on his way.
They leaped into action, one working on the wall with the door as the other one toiled on the opposite wall with the window. After a while, they had them ready to raise and helped each other stand them up. The door and the window did not come anywhere near matching each other as far as their heights and there was not time to rebuild them. Their lack of skill screamed from every bent nail and crooked cut. They were busted and they knew it.
The truth of which of them did what is lost in the fading years, but one of them said, “Look, there’s no sense in waiting till the end of the day. As soon as the boss gets back, he’s gonna fire us. We don’t have enough money to go and start over somewhere else, so you go get our stuff at the boarding house and I’ll get our tickets and we’ll head home!” And so, away they went! Well, the first fellow made it to the train depot and had just enough time to buy the tickets before the train pulled out. He took his seat and waited on his partner. The minutes must have seemed like hours as the whistle blew and the last boarding call was made. Suddenly the massive machine lurched forward and began to creep out of the station. Still……no buddy! Ever so gradually, the train began to pick up speed.
Meanwhile, the other guy had finally gotten their belongings and was racing toward the tracks. He could hear the whistle and see that the train was already in motion. He changed his course and began angling through the back yards of homes adjoining the tracks, running as fast as his legs could carry him. So intent was he on gauging the speed of the locomotive and his angle of approach that he failed to notice a clothes line strung taught across his path.
Suddenly, a woman on the train shrieked in horror! “Oh, my goodness! I just saw a man get killed! He was running to catch the train and a clothesline caught him right across the throat! I’m sure he’s dead!”
Several passengers moved to that side of the car to try and see what she was talking about but the train was moving faster and the scene of the disaster was left behind.
Our friend on the train was trying to process all of this and wondering what in the world he should do when suddenly the door at the end of the car burst open and his associate staggered in with a couple of bags under one arm and a bloody handkerchief to his throat! They had made it!
They limped back home with their tails between their legs, so to speak but it was certainly not the end of their partnership. As the years passed, they became skilled plasterers and astute businessmen. They found Jesus somewhere along their path and enjoyed spotless reputations with all who knew them. Later, my grandfather, Ralph (Marshall’s younger brother) was taken in as a partner and he shared many of their tales from life on the road as traveling contractors. Unfortunately, most of them are long forgotten but maybe this one will survive.
Hal F. Leary
June 23, 2014