Journal Stories From The 2000's

L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C.
Editor:

Not since our man of letters, Brother Shappie, retired on a pension have I seen a line from Local No. 230. Well, we have just had an old-fashioned winter and for the first time in 20 years some of us had to put on snowshoes. For my part if I don’t put them on for another 20 years it will be too soon. Why do they build these high lines where the country is all doubled up?

I think we have almost gotten around that much-talked-of corner and for the first time in years there seems to be quite a lot of work coming up, mostly rebuilding and taking care of increased load. Now don’t start a stampede; our own membership comes first and we can take care of it.

I have often wondered what has become of old buddies, Hughie Null, of Odessa, Mo.; Crip Smith, of Boston, and Charlie Pipes, of Omaha. Come to think about it, it’s about 30 years since we strung the first dispatchers’ telephone for the Great Northern. Percy the Scot, from St. Thomas (the little runt), will you ever forget the Thanksgiving Day we pulled into Minneapolis? Big Jack Kennedy, great union man, it was a show in itself to see him haul his six-foot-four out from behind the wheel of a model-T. Charly Hartsel, my old working buddy from Peoria, let’s hear from you.

On February 20 we celebrated the thirty-fifth anniversary of Local No. 230. We forgot all our petty grievances and for one night, from the superintendents to grunts, we were all equal. There was turkey with all the trimmings and plenty of liquid refreshments, and everybody had a grand time. Our first president, of 35 years ago, opened the meeting and proposed a toast to Local No. 230 which was responded to by our president, Brother Lemmax, who was also master of ceremonies. Brothers Shappie, Heathcote, and Bill Reid, our business manager, also spoke. Brother E.H. Morrison brought greetings from Local No. 213, and gave a short but interesting talk. Brother Morrison went back to the Bible for his first business agent.

I, too, can go back to the Bible. They did a lot of climbing around in those days but I have not been able to find any linemen among them. But they did have tower jumpers. They built towers. Remember the Tower of Babel? They had a big gang on that job and they never did finish it. They wound up in a bad way, they couldn’t understand one another-and sometimes I think they we are pretty much in the same boat. In those days they also had a good union man who took sticks and demonstrated unity to his sons. Read the Book sometime; it may do you some good.

Now, to the younger members of our Brotherhood, I would like to say that merely paying your monthly dues will not make you a union man, and don’t think that the conditions we are enjoying today just happened. They have all been fought for by the men before you. No lasting benefit is ever gained without organized union effort. Hold and guard what you have religiously and always strive to better yourself. It requires the efforts of us all.

During our anniversary dinner there were compliments and toasts galore. I, too, would like to propose a toast-to the brutes that I have worked with for the last 30 years. A lot of those old boys are gone, as I am reminded by the death column in our JOURNAL each month. Big men, rough, tough men with the strength of a horse and a heart much too big for their own good. I have seen them fall and break half the bones in their bodies; I have seen them hung upon hot wires. There would be a flash of fire and a ball of smoke and their bodies burned half in two. To those men, I would drink a toast in whiskey straight, as I know they would.

Gentlemen, the linemen!

Dan Tonman.



	Published in April 1937 - I.B.E.W. Journal L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C. Editor: Not since our man of letters, Brother Shappie, retired on a pension have I seen a line from Local No. 230. Well, we have just had an old-fashioned winter and for the first time in 20 years some of us had to put on snowshoes. For my part if I don’t put them on for another 20 years it will be too soon. Why do they build these high lines where the country is all doubled up? I think we have almost gotten around that much-talked-of corner and for the first time in years there seems to be quite a lot of work coming up, mostly rebuilding and taking care of increased load. Now don’t start a stampede; our own membership comes first and we can take care of it. I have often wondered what has become of old buddies, Hughie Null, of Odessa, Mo.; Crip Smith, of Boston, and Charlie Pipes, of Omaha. Come to think about it, it’s about 30 years since we strung the first dispatchers’ telephone for the Great Northern. Percy the Scot, from St. Thomas (the little runt), will you ever forget the Thanksgiving Day we pulled into Minneapolis? Big Jack Kennedy, great union man, it was a show in itself to see him haul his six-foot-four out from behind the wheel of a model-T. Charly Hartsel, my old working buddy from Peoria, let’s hear from you. On February 20 we celebrated the thirty-fifth anniversary of Local No. 230. We forgot all our petty grievances and for one night, from the superintendents to grunts, we were all equal. There was turkey with all the trimmings and plenty of liquid refreshments, and everybody had a grand time. Our first president, of 35 years ago, opened the meeting and proposed a toast to Local No. 230 which was responded to by our president, Brother Lemmax, who was also master of ceremonies. Brothers Shappie, Heathcote, and Bill Reid, our business manager, also spoke. Brother E.H. Morrison brought greetings from Local No. 213, and gave a short but interesting talk. Brother Morrison went back to the Bible for his first business agent. I, too, can go back to the Bible. They did a lot of climbing around in those days but I have not been able to find any linemen among them. But they did have tower jumpers. They built towers. Remember the Tower of Babel? They had a big gang on that job and they never did finish it. They wound up in a bad way, they couldn’t understand one another-and sometimes I think they we are pretty much in the same boat. In those days they also had a good union man who took sticks and demonstrated unity to his sons. Read the Book sometime; it may do you some good. Now, to the younger members of our Brotherhood, I would like to say that merely paying your monthly dues will not make you a union man, and don’t think that the conditions we are enjoying today just happened. They have all been fought for by the men before you. No lasting benefit is ever gained without organized union effort. Hold and guard what you have religiously and always strive to better yourself. It requires the efforts of us all. During our anniversary dinner there were compliments and toasts galore. I, too, would like to propose a toast-to the brutes that I have worked with for the last 30 years. A lot of those old boys are gone, as I am reminded by the death column in our JOURNAL each month. Big men, rough, tough men with the strength of a horse and a heart much too big for their own good. I have seen them fall and break half the bones in their bodies; I have seen them hung upon hot wires. There would be a flash of fire and a ball of smoke and their bodies burned half in two. To those men, I would drink a toast in whiskey straight, as I know they would. Gentlemen, the linemen! Dan Tonman.