HAILING THE UNSEEN August 30, 2024

A hundred red firetrucks get you thinking.

Six weeks ago, Carolyn and I started our return drive from Willow Creek in Humboldt County where we’d visited family. As we headed down route 299 to Arcata, a new shift of firefighters convoyed up to a fire near (but not threatening) our cousins’ summer home. 

Sometimes, we only see firefighters, police and highway patrolmen when they pass by responding to a problem. Occasionally, the problem is ours. They deserve our respect for doing what often is a dangerous job. But tens of millions hardworking and very necessary people remain out of view.

So, as we “celebrate” Labor Day this Monday, here’s to the folks we seldom, if ever, see.

Preamble: Labor Day became a federal holiday in 1894, supported by labor unions. Workers in factories and forests, on farms and ships, in mines and oilfields, toiled under dirty, dangerous conditions for a barely livable wage. 

Perhaps no labor disaster on land is more notorious than the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in Manhattan. The doors to stairwells and exits had been locked to prevent the workers from taking breaks. This barred their escaping. The dead totaled 123 women and girls, and 23 men. Most were Italian and Jewish immigrant women 14 to 23.

Today, much of the clothing we wear comes from overseas. A great many of those workers are treated little better than American workers a century ago. Many worse. We wear their handiwork but don’t see them or acknowledge their efforts.

For that matter, we don’t see a great many workers here, both American-born and those who come from other countries. They do the backbreaking jobs on which we depend. I eat strawberries with my breakfast cereal. I appreciate the folks who pick them and the need to improve conditions in the field, as well as housing, medical care and their children’s education.

I tip my cap to family farmers and ranchers, who often endure lean years. Many find ways to produce healthier food.

In restaurants, I see the host/hostess, the waitpersons, the bussers, sometimes the cooks. Dishwashers? Out of sight. Without them, I couldn’t enjoy my steak frites or stuffed eggplant. And here’s salute to folks who empty bedpans in hospitals and provide care in nursing homes and for seniors at home. And—thank you, teachers from pre-K up!

Many people we do see get passed by without recognition because they perform blue-collar jobs rather than code or make trades in the financial markets. 

I’m grateful for bus drivers and those who empty my trash, recycle and compost bins. I said “Hi” this morning. I also owe a debt to those I don’t see, who separate and process all this material—an exhausting job to be sure. 

Of course, I’m barely scratching the surface. How about the workers who repair telephone lines and cell towers (often in distant places), clean airplanes after we depart (often beginning while we’re deplaning) and dig ditches to maintain sewage systems and underground utilities. 

This weekend, if you’re on vacation, hosting a barbecue, going to the ballgame or hitting a sale—enjoy. But let’s remember the folks we see (like beer vendors in the ballpark stands) and don’t ( men and women slaughtering cattle for our steaks and burgers). They aren’t getting rich. Still, they’re enriching our lives.

Please pass this on. 

The post will take off on Friday, Sept. 6 and return on Sept. 13.

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