Journal of a Wireman

It’s That Time of Year

August 12th, 2025

In the most western part of Hamilton County is a small piece of Americana, a wonderful little amusement park. Old and young electricians alike gather for their picnic each year. We arrive around noon, and the grills are fired up, the rides are running, and the beer is already flowing from the taps. Ears of corn have been strategically placed and covered in burlap to be perfectly steamed. Children are filled with excitement as they race to The Electric Rainbow and then to The Viking Ship. The soft serve, snow cones, and cotton candy are all free. The kids fill up on treats and somehow their stomachs never flip and turn with the rides. I’m working on my second round as I check out the prizes. I dream of winning the big Yeti cooler, but I never do. I say hello to the business manager; I tell him great job on the picnic this year. We are cordial with each other, today is a day for positive vibes only. As I walk towards the guys selling the t-shirts, someone taps me on the shoulder. It’s my old classmate Dale. “How long has it been?” I ask.

“At least ten years.” Dale says with a chuckle, ” Remember that time you sunk the company truck in the mud. They barely drug it out with the lull.”

“You need to get your story straight; I was in the passenger seat. Besides that,” I laugh, “Mannequins don’t know how to drive!”

” That job was like no other, I’m glad we took that call together.” Dale says this as he pats me on the back. We talk a little more and before he walks off with his wife, he says it was good catching up with you.

The crowd has doubled, and the picnic tables are filled. The children are running around with sticky hands from the cotton candy. They get into innocent mischief; the kind of stuff the parents can ignore because they are catching up. It’s beer four for me and I mosey over to the rides to find my kids. I take pictures of them as they spin around in the Tilt-a-Whirl. They are having the time of their lives, and I am having a proud father moment. As they run over to me with excitement, I ask them if they are ready for lunch. Hamburgers, brats and metts, and of course corn on the cob are all on the menu today. Also, there are veggie burgers, for those who imbibe.

The cornhole tournament is well on its way, I’m on beer number seven. I watch as a bag is lofted into the air, it comes down on the board with a crack. I walk into the event hall to get out of the heat and pick up a bingo card. I sit next to a couple of old timers and ask them if they are enjoying retirement. Ray says he has more time for golf. Tom shakes his head, “You spent more time on the green than you did at the jobsite.”

Ray took off his glasses and started cleaning them, “Well… You might be right. Now I don’t have to call off when I go.” Ray looked my way,” How’s Meiner Electric treating you? Are you running work now, Jimmy?”

I don’t bother to tell him I go by Jim now as I clear my throat, “I’ve been a foreman for a few years now. I’m not ready for the big ones yet.”

Tom intervened, ” Oh nonsense Jimmy! You’re smart and have a good eye for detail, besides that, I taught you everything I know.”

Ray laughs, “What is that, Tom? ”

I tried not to smile as I thought things never change. ” You wouldn’t believe these apprentices nowadays! They are so sensitive, they can’t take a joke. Just the other day…”

Ray and Tom both chuckle, “That’s what we thought about you and your classmates. ”

Ray continued,” I didn’t think you were going to make it the first week, the way you were crying about the portalets. I realized you were determined because you kept coming back. You just have to find out what makes the new guys tick. “

“I suppose you are right.”

A voice called from the front of the room, “B 16! B16”

Tom jumped up, ” Bingo!”

Ray leaned over to me, “That’s the fastest I seen Tom move since our old foreman walked into the room at Great American.”

Things just never change. I tell them that it was good catching up, but I should find out where my family ran off too. We shake hands and I step back out in the heat. The sun has set and the park is colored with the neon lights of the rides. The kids are tired but happy and my youngest says it might be time to go. My wife says she will drive and my kids are talking about next years picnic. This year I won some fishing gear but I did not win The Yeti.

I’ll see you on the next one.
Just Another Sh** Post

August 5th, 2025

Today we shall talk about something that no one likes to talk about in my industry. Some construction workers will try to go all day without it. Some construction workers do not give it much thought at all. The trades will argue about many things, but when the temperature reaches 90 degrees, we all agree on one thing. You may have already guessed today’s topic, but before we get elbows deep in it, let us discuss the history of The Portalets.

As a construction worker, I have always been curious how portalets came about and why in 2025 are we still using them. Well, I did some research and the concept of the portalet came about in the 1940’s. Shipyards realized their employees were losing valuable time because they had to hike all the way back to the docks. They decided to build a wooden cabana, fitted with a holding tank. The workers could stay on the ships they were building; this made the work go faster and possibly made the workers happier. Did it really make the workers happier?

If you have ever been to an outdoor event and thought those portalets were bad, well I have some bad news. Any construction worker will tell you that these particular portalets are pristine. We deal with portalets day in and day out. If we are lucky, they are cleaned once a week, more often than not, they stay soiled until enough people complain. Dirty, disgusting portalets. Here’s something you probably don’t know. Most construction sites are smoke free, which makes the portalet a great place for smokers to hang out. Don’t get me started on not having running water. I was a germophobic when I joined the trade, not being able to wash my hands for a week cured that problem. You mean to tell me in 80 years we can’t get something better for construction workers?

In a more humorous note, portalets have become part of construction workers’ culture. For construction workers, a portalet is just another social media platform. Let’s be clear, not all construction workers contribute to the portalet walls, but we all consume the content. In my 23 years of working in this trade I have recognized 3 types of portalet posters; The Portalet Poet, The Portalet Picasso and the ill-informed Political posts.

I would have to say that when I was younger, the creativity of construction workers was at an all-time high. I mean guys would come back from, “Letting go of some coffee” and talk about the latest thing written on the portalet walls. Did you read that? Did you see that? You have to check it out next time you go, it’s in the third portalet from the parking garage. It has been a form of entertainment. One of the more creative, perverse form of literature I read on a portalet wall, reads as follows.

There once was a man named Gent, His Dick was so long it was bent. To save him some trouble he put it in double and instead of coming he went.

Well, let’s move on, shall we? I hold a special place in my heart for The Portalet Picasso. On every job there seems to be one big asshole that tries to bring everyone down. On almost every job there is an artist that will put this jerk in his place by drawing him on the walls in compromising positions. In more recent years there was a guy I call Bob who made life hell for anyone that got in his way. When Bob wasn’t meeting his deadlines, he blamed it on the guy he was working with. When Bob’s tool buddy got laid off, the word spread like wildfire. I remember one morning at break; I passed a few guys snickering. When I asked them what was going on, they told me to check out this portalet they were standing close to. I opened up the portalet door and saw a big, fat worm with his hands on his belly. The worm was wearing a hardhat and seemed to be leaning back laughing. The caption read I am Bob and I’m a worm. They say karma will get you and, in this case, The Portalet Picasso got to him first. After a few weeks Bob couldn’t take it anymore and he quit working for his contractor.

Now I don’t plan to talk about the political posts, I’ve already filled your heads full of nonsense. I just want to get back to my question; Why are we still using portalets in 2025? In 23 years, I’ve been on two jobs with bathroom trailers and temporary running water. Let’s show some love to the men and women building the cities in which we live. Our jobs are hard enough as it is. As I said in the past, we live on these construction sites for 60 to 70 hours a week. It’s about time to have a thrown away from home. I want to thank you all for participating, and as always,

I’ll see you on the next one.
I’m a Prince spelled P-R-I-C-K

July 29th, 2025

My third year in the trade was a turning point in my career. I just couldn’t see it then. Before I joined the trade, I wanted to be an artist; I wanted to make people laugh. I had (still have) a passion for the arts. I was in show choir and barbershop quartet in high school. I wanted to move to New York and make it on SNL. I am a dreamer, and I have always dreamed big. As I’m writing this now, I can honestly say I’m finally bringing my dreams into fruition.

I felt like a fish out of water when I joined the trade and if I wanted proper training, I would have to fit in. I stopped talking about what made me and started talking about sports, nascar and beef jerky. Looking back on this, I didn’t fool anyone but myself. It took me a long time to be confrontable in my own skin, but I digress.

It was my third year in the trade and that’s when my foreman put me with Tony. I still remember walking over to him to introduce myself. I set my toolbox down on his material cart, ” Hi, my name is Jimmy Stu…”

Tony didn’t let me finish, “Nooo, noo no. That’s my material cart! you have to get your own.” This was Tony being helpful in his own way. He continued, “You see what kind of material I have on here? Take note. I want you to go downstairs and find yourself a material cart. When you get one, I want you to fill your cart with the same material I have. By the time you get back, it should be break time. Then you can introduce yourself. ” As I walked away, I wondered if I could even put up with this asshole.

Tony was a rough neck, red neck from Kentucky, that was his words, not mine. If you ask me, Tony looked like David Hasselhoff’s older brother. This image helped me deal with how stern Tony could be. Tony was close to retirement when I met him, and he was still walking around like he had something to prove. He worked for Meiner Electric years ago. People knew him there and he had a reputation of being a bad ass. Most guys steered clear of him, but some journeymen seemed to have a good rapport with Tony. I just wanted to make it through my apprenticeship, and I really didn’t like confrontation back then.

It turned out, Tony was a bit of a perfectionist, and the first few weeks were trial by fire. I still remember some of the random pop quizzes he would give me. In the middle of work, he would shout out questions and expect a quick answer. I would notice other guys staring and I just became that more nervous. Tony asked me in what direction does electrons move and without thinking, I shouted out, “From left to right!” Tony immediately started laughing. I knew that wasn’t the answer and I wasn’t happy anymore. At that moment I said something that surprised Tony and me both, “Screw you Tony! Why are you always putting me on the spot? I come to work to learn, not to be embarrassed.” With his own way of apologizing, Tony made a joke, “Everyone knows I’m a prince, spelled P-R-I-C-K. I was just trying to teach you. You have a lot of potential to be a great journeyman someday and it’s my job to get you there.”

As might be expected, working for Tony got a lot better. We started opening up to each other and that made the workday smoother. We swapped stories, told jokes, laughed about the shenanigans that happened on the job. Tony taught me so much about the trade. He said to work as hard as you can and not to worry about the deadlines. Tony said in this trade especially, we work to live, not live to work. He told me to not be afraid to talk to people, they don’t trust the quiet guys.

I didn’t know anyone when I first joined the trade, and I didn’t feel like I had anything in common with the guys I worked with. I worked for many great electricians that taught me about the trade. Tony was more of a mentor and taught me about life. Tony got me out of my shell, and I truly appreciate that. At this point in my career, I could step on any job and people know who I am and what I stand for. I’ve taught many apprentices, and I can only hope I impacted their lives as much as Tony did for me. Oh yeah. In case you were wondering, Electrons flow from negative to positive.

I’ll see you on the next one.
The Grey Fox of Saginaw

July 18th, 2025

When you work out of town, nothing is the same. You are away from your loved ones and even on the best days, you can feel a little empty inside. I can tell you that in 23 years, Edwardsport was a once in a lifetime experience. The conditions were excellent, and it seemed as if you could just open your pockets and collect the money. Any meal can taste good when you are hungry and we had all been looking for work for a long time. All the guys in our crew looked out for each other. We all became good friends, that is all of us except for Greg. Greg had other plans in mind.

When you take a call outside your home local, you must know this job is temporary. When a union contractor is awarded a job, they agree to fulfill the contract. The beauty of a union contractor is that they can supply man power for the job from all over the country. Every journeymen gets the same quality training so when a contractor hires someone, they pretty much know what they are getting. A smaller local, with less members may pull workers from book 2, Travelers that are seeking work outside their local union hall. Once the job is done, book 2 members will be the first to get laid off.

Greg saw each employee as a threat. We all wanted to keep a job as long as possible. Everyone at some point in their career has heard the expression, “We are here to make money not friends”, but Greg took this to the next level. The rest of us had the mindset that we were all there to take care of our families back home. No one wanted to leave their families for work, so we made the best of the situation. If laughter is the best medicine, we were prescribed high doses. The jokes we shared helped ease the pain from being hours away from home. Greg on the other hand, would crush your spirit if you let him. The only names that end up on the porta let walls were assholes on the job. Greg had porta let walls dedicated to him.

Another thing I should tell you about Greg is that he was the worst kind of storyteller. Greg was a Topper. If you said you caught a 10 pound Bass, Greg had caught a 15 pound Bass. We all embellish when we tell stories, it’s just that his embellishments were much taller and broader than himself. Greg would brag and boast, but no one bought into his bullshit. Greg would talk about his hunting trips in The U.P. or his fishing trips on the great lakes. He would yammer on and on.

One day at lunch, Greg started in on another story. Everyone in the trailer put their heads down as if they were asleep. Todd and I had already made eye contact with Greg, and I suppose we were too polite to not listen.

“You know Todd, ten years ago my friends and I took a boat out on Lake Superior”, Greg began.

I looked over and Todd had on a brave smile, ” Another fishing trip?” Greg continued his story. I looked around the trailer and knew it was too late to join the crew, so I kept on listening.

“It was getting late in the day and I saw the clouds roll in. I told my friend it was time to turn back but he refused to listen. He wasn’t going back until he caught one more fish. I tried to warn him again and then it began to storm. The waves were rocking the bowt and I knew we were in trouble!”

Todd and I began to lean in as Greg continued to tell his story. ” The waves were getting bigger as they crashed onto the boat. We tossed and turned until the boat overturned in the water and then….”

Before Greg could get another word in, I excitedly said, ” What happened next Greg! Did you make it?” The entire trailer roared in laughter. Greg was pissed, “No Jim, this is the part where we all died.”

Todd was snickering and I was laughing so hard I had to excuse myself from the trailer. I was tearing up and I had to catch my breath. As I calmed myself down, I thought to myself I got him. This was the day I caught The Grey Fox of Saginaw. From then on Greg tried to be more tolerable to the crew. And as for me, well I have this great story to tell.

I’ll see you on the next one.
Pull a Little Wire, Have a Little Fun, Mannequins! Get Down Tonight

July 6th, 2025

My first layoff in 2009 was the hardest, but as they say in construction, I had a good run. I can say this casually now but at the time, I was a little angry and I was scared for my family. My daughter was a year old! I had to stay employed to have insurance and to have a steady check coming in. Fortunately, some of the guys that got laid off with me knew where to find employment. Work had dried up in Cincinnati and so I began seeking work elsewhere. When you are unemployed as a Union Electrician, you sign the book at your local union hall. This book is essentially a waiting list to go back to work, and I signed my name behind 400 electricians on a book that wasn’t moving. Don told me I had nothing to worry about because come Monday morning we would meet at the hall and go sign books together.

Monday morning came and we drove to St. Louis, signing books in other locals along the way. There were many uncertainties, but I was in good company. When we talk of brotherhood this is a perfect definition. Don had traveled before, and he was happy to show us the ropes as none of the others in the car had ever traveled for work.Traveling, signing books and taking calls out of town is a different skill set and having Don there to help us through was what being a Union Brother should be. We left Cincinnati around five in the morning and returned around seven at night. There was five us in the car that day. Don and I chose to work right away. We both had families depending on us.

Don and I spent a month out in Collinsville, Illinois. That’s when I really came into my own. We noticed that everyone had their names printed on their hard hats except us. When we asked our foreman about this, he replied, ‘This phase of the job is winding down. You won’t be here very long.” We were disappointed but I tried to shrug it off. I was determined to make the best of it, so I reached for my sharpie. I took my hard hat off and wrote JIMBO on it in big block letters. By the end of the day a dozen people introduced their selves to me. By the end of the week, I was making jokes at lunch and making friends. Being away from my wife and daughter got a little easier. A month on the road went quickly and I was ready to see my family. I had made it through my first time working out of town.

Don and I took one more call together in West Virginia before we parted ways. Don landed a maintenance job at the University of Cincinnati, and I continued seeking work out of town. I was happy for Don and appreciated all the help he was on the road.

Networking while I was out of town is how I found my next job. Don had inspired me and I wanted to pay it forward. I called my buddy Dave who I went through the apprenticeship with. He was looking for work too. “I heard there was some good work in Terre Haute, Indiana. Would like to ride with me and sign their book?” There was a long pause over the phone. Dave sighed, “Yeah I suppose. I haven’t had much luck anywhere else.” When you are out of work it is easy to start feeling very negatively. That is one of the reasons it is important to help each other find work and get back out there. After all being a Union Journeyman Electrician is a big part of our identities. I felt like this was going to be a good call. “Okay, I’ll pick you up in the morning.” I had enough optimism for both of us.

Terre Haute’s book was loaded but moving. With any luck we would be out to work before the end of the year. After a few weeks I began to get nervous. I was really counting on this job. My unemployment was running out and I had to get back to work soon. The first week of January, there was a 12-man call for a coal gasification plant in a small town of Edwardsport. I quickly threw some clothes together, grabbed my tools and then ran to the car. I picked Dave up and we were on our way. That is exactly how working out of town is. One minute you are waiting on the couch for that call and the next you are giving your loved ones a quick kiss goodbye as you run out the door.

Once we finished our safety orientation, the general foreman took 2 of the guys to run conduit. As for the rest of, we became the wire pulling crew. We were a motley bunch. There were two guys from Chicago and two from Detroit. There was a guy from Saganaw, Michigan and two guys from Indianapolis. Three of us were from Cincinnati. There was a lot of personality in our group and we just enjoyed it completely. Our foreman Todd picked us up in a work van and drove us around the site. Todd explained to us that we would be pulling cable through manholes around the entire jobsite. Each location needed one person dedicated to monitor the co2 levels. If the detector set off an alert, we were instructed to evacuate immediately. Monitoring the co2 levels was important but standing there for ten hours was so mundane. We decided that we would rotate who pulled the wire and who ran the monitor to keep it fair.

After a few weeks the crew started to click. On Fridays we would go to a bar or have dinner together. Our foreman was one in a million. Todd had a southern draw with a gravelly undertone. Every morning when we hopped in the van, Todd would start the day off by saying, “We’re going to pull a little wuyr, have a little fun, get down tonight.” Then Todd would give a little chuckle like he was saying it for the first time. We all had radios and gave each other nicknames. Some were appropriate and others were not. We were having so much fun on the job that we didn’t notice we piqued the other crews’ interest. One day we were at the bar and some other guys from the job came over to have a beer with us. They introduced themselves and went on to say they wished they were in our crew. When we asked why, they said we seem like a tight knit group that’s always having fun together. From a distance you look like mannequins. We all started to laugh, and I said, “Yeah, Todd just places us in position every day.” After that, the word spread like wildfire that our crew was known as The Mannequins. I did not appreciate how rare this type of job is. I hadn’t traveled enough to know that clicking like this and having so much fun doesn’t always happen.

I ended up working in Edwardsport for seven months until I could take a call back in Cincinnati. It was tough being away from my wife and daughter so long, but it was a sacrifice I had to make back then. I made enough money to put a good down payment on a new home. this job allowed me to make lifelong friendships and gain a lot of confidence as a Journeyman. The realization that Cincinnati was just a small part of the IBEW really helped shape my approach and attitude. I started my new job at home with a new perspective. The future was looking bright, and I was ready to take on a new challenge.

I’ll see you on the next one.
We Aren’t Working in the Damn Rain

June 30th, 2025

Some jobs just need a little help to make them better and some jobs need a lot of help. This is a story about a job that had many ups and downs. This was the second gas plant I worked at, for the same contractor and the same foreman. John was and still is a great guy. He would have his outburst of frustration, but he did care for his workers. On Fridays, he would invite us all to The Eagle and buy us buckets of beer. All the guys knew him there and I think this was his first chance to be a big shot. I sympathized for him. My career hadn’t gone the way I wanted, so I really understood how he felt.

John really took me under his wing on this project. Most days we would spend the first hour going over prints before joining the crew outside working. There was a lot of underground work on this job, so we spent our fair share of time working in the trenches running conduit. It was around May, and no one minded working outside. The weather had been working in our favor until one week. One Monday morning the rain started coming down in buckets. We tried to wait it out but ended up going home due to thunderstorms. Tuesday wasn’t bad and we had work we could do to keep us going until the ditches dried out. Wednesday came and worked half a day until it started raining again. John told us all to go to the trailer. We all sat down in the trailer, but John was pacing back and forth. We had our first deadline that Friday and he didn’t want to tell us about it. John took a peek outside and it had stopped raining. John looked at us and said, “Let’s get out there and finish these two runs of conduit. ” We all hurried out of the trailer and headed toward the ditch. If you hadn’t guessed, it started raining again and John hit the ceiling! “I know I said we wouldn’t work in the mud, but we have to get this shit done today!” We grumbled a little but kept working. John had an old school way of motivating people through verbal jabs. Needless to say, John started in on all of us and he went on and on until he struck a nerve. “Are you guys even electricians?” We were soaking wet and our boots were sticking in the mud but we were getting the job done.

I came unglued, “Damnit John! I’ve had enough of your shit for one day. Just wait until I get out of this ditch….”

I was interrupted by John’s laughter, “I’ve been picking at you for a year and I finally got you to yell. You don’t let anything get to you. Do you?”

“Everyone has their tipping point, John. ” I was finishing the last of the pipe run, “We’re finished. Let’s say we clean up and get the hell out of here for the day.”

“That sounds like a good idea Jim.” As quickly as John would get fired up, the next minute he would give us fist bumps and tell us what a great job we were doing for him.

On the drive home it had stopped raining, and the sun came out. I replayed the whole scene in my mind and started to smile. I was humming a familiar tune, but the words were coming out different. The words were so clear. I had to pull over and write them down:

The Drag Up Song (Escape)

I was tired of my foreman. We worked together too long. He sounded like a broken record, I couldn’t take it no more. He was at the shop sleeping, I called the job line instead. And on the recorder, there was a message it said,

Do you like pulling wire? Running pipe in the rain? If you are not into health food, if you have half a brain. If the shop calls you after midnight. Would you throw on that red cape. This is the job that you hoped for. Your chance to escape….

I wrote a full version of this parody and typed it up. On John’s birthday, I gave it to him as a gift. I figured a guy like John would appreciate a few verbal jabs being thrown at him. I don’t know this for a fact but I’m pretty sure he took it home and framed it. Now John has been retired for the past five years, and we haven’t really kept in touch. I sometimes imagine he is singing that song and it makes me laugh.

I’ll see you on the next one.
The Soccer Ball

June 24th, 2025

In 2020, I found myself laid off because of covid. The hall was putting calls out for the soccer stadium, so I decided to take the job. The consensus about the job was it was not somewhere you wanted to take a call. After being laid off for 2 years during the housing market crash of 2008, I thought it best to work as much as I could before the whole world shut down. Along with the rest of the world I was concerned of what I might bring home to my family due to working outside the house. Wearing a mask made it hard to understand my Foreman and my safety glasses would steam up so it was hard to see But the fear of bringing a deadly virus home to my children kept these two items firmly on my face. There were so many uncertainties. Doubt was a constant, was working the right choice? How long would this last? Was i killing myself?

As much as I hated heights, when I found out I would be hanging stadium lights, I was thrilled. Working in a 150-foot boom lift seemed like the definition of social distancing. The negativity in the crew that I was working with was immense. A truth that spans all worksites is the job is that much harder when you don’t get along with the people you are with. I was determined to make it through. Fortunately, things started to click between me and a couple of the guys in the crew.

Like any job, there were ups and downs, but you learn to take the good with the bad. People were going home left and right because of COVID, but I felt safe out on the soccer field. For the first part of the job, I worked with another Journeyman named Rich. He too was having a hard time with what was going on in the world. Rich had a positive outlook and always had a good story or a joke to tell to keep the morale up. After all the conduit was run, Rich got transferred to another crew.

It was time to hang the stadium field lights and I had a new tool buddy. Brent was a young country boy, and he was strong as an ox. We were the brute strength of the crew. The stadium lights were big, bulky and weighed over 100 pounds. Ultimately, Brent and I were the only ones who could hang them. We were working 10-hour days at the time. After a few weeks of heavy lifting, we were worn out. Just out of the blue Brent starts singing in a country twang,” Just swinging… In a basket… high in the air… With my pal Jimmy!” I just chuckled and told Brent, “You’re not right, kid.” Deep down, I wasn’t right either, but I couldn’t let on to that.

We were making good progress on the stadium lights, but as I said, the deadline was coming near.

For the month of August,we worked on those lights without a day off, working 12 hour shifts. The days began to run together.

The last Sunday morning of our shift, I stepped onto the the field and it was already sweltering. The entire crew was mentally and physically drained. I felt like I was awake in a dream, so when the soccer ball rolled up to me, I rubbed my eyes a little. I looked around and no one was there. Most trades had the day off. My crew was there to finish up the stadium lights so that the field could be prepped for sod.

It was time for work. Before I hopped on my lift, I kicked the ball as hard as I could. I smiled at the thought of the ball being passed around the rest of the day, reminding us all not to take life so seriously.

I’ll see you on the next one

this soccer ball came rolling up to me on our last day over time. I never figured out who kicked/tossed it over to me.
A Seat at the Table

June 21st, 2025

I remember so much from my first job in the apprenticeship. I was fortunate enough to be hired on with one of the largest contractors in Cincinnati at the time. I was sent to work at Great American Ballpark in April of 2002. We took break in a large area that would soon be the switchgear room and everyday it would be filled with smoke and laughter. Journeymen sat at the break tables and apprentices sat on wire spools. The work we do is hard and apprentices were young and so out of respect the older guys should get the chairs. It was a small price to pay for all that they taught us. Someone told me once that the apprenticeship isn’t easy. Getting through those first few years will earn you the same amount of respect as your journeyman.

I spent my time at break and lunch getting to know the apprentices. When there was no one to talk to, I listened to conversations around me. There was a group of guys that played Euchre every day, they seemed to have the most fun. At another table, there was a guy named Kevin He loved to recite dirty limericks. Kevin would habitually teach the other guys “The right way” to eat a banana; hand on top of head pushing downward. There was Tim and his twin brother, Disco who spent their time talking about cars. They loved to work on muscle cars. Tim bragged about a car he kept in his brother’s shop that his wife didn’t even know about.

A few months went by and one of the guys that played Euchre got transferred to another job. When they asked if anyone knew how to play, I didn’t hesitate to volunteer. They introduced themselves, Dave and John were a team, and Jack would be my partner. Dave started out by saying, “This is just a friendly game of Euchre. We don’t get worked up or take it seriously.” He wanted to set my mind at ease and then Jack leaned in, “If we don’t win this game kid, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you in your sleep!” Dave and John looked at Jack and started laughing. It may have been a friendly game, but they were real pros. I had to step up my game. I learned so much more from those guys beyond paying Euchre.

It wasn’t just about dirty jokes and tall tales in that room; they were a wealth of knowledge. Those journeymen were giving advice to us young guys for free, and all we had to do was to listen. A good journeyman will not only train you in your craft, but he also became your mentor. In order to preserve the future of the local, a good journeyman will do everything he can to help you succeed. Building a community with the new generation makes us all stronger.

I’ll see you on the next one.
The Realities of Being a Father: A Personal Story

June 15th, 2025

Happy Father Days to all who are reading this today. I know that for a man, being a father is one of the hardest, most fulfilling jobs you will have. Often, we don’t see our results in real time and this can fill us with doubt. When my oldest daughter was three years old, I was teaching her how to put together a puzzle. It didn’t seem like she was getting it and being a new father, I really questioned what I was doing wrong. Fortunately, Christmas came six months later and she was opening up her presents and Santa brought puzzles. Her eyes lit up and she immediately began to put the puzzles together without help. It was truly a proud moment in fatherhood for me.

We work a lot of hours and sometimes we only hear about our successes from our spouse. We may not see their first step or hear their first word. I believe at an early age; it is instilled in us to be providers. Twice in my career I have worked 12-hour shifts, seven days a week. The first time I worked that many hours, I was in my thirties and was ready for the challenge. We were installing a new line (oven) at Keebler’s. A contractor in my home local was hiring guys for a big push at the end of the job. I started in October and worked 7-12s until January. My wife had to do all the Christmas shopping online and on paper, it was the best Christmas ever. Work gave us all a Honey Baked Ham for the Holidays, and I felt like a hero.

I’m not saying this to brag, in fact I wouldn’t recommend it. Working that many hours wear you down mentally and physically. At the time, I thought that was what I had to do for my family. I learned a lot from that job. I learned what I was capable of and I learned money isn’t the most important thing in life. Since then, I have learned to say no to the long hours so I can be with my family. My health is important and making memories with my kids holds more value to me than ever before.

Your kids are only young once and you can never get that time back when they are grown. It doesn’t matter what your coworkers think of you and jobs will come and go. Be the best version of yourself for your kids. Show up every day and put the time in with your children. The earlier you portray how you want your kids to see you the better.

I’ll see you on the next one
The Real Strength of Construction Workers: Resilience and Brotherhood

June 12th, 2025

When people envision construction workers what comes to mind? Loud and rough around the edges. Thick skinned and can’t be rattled. Did I mention colorful language? These are some of the characteristics that make up a construction worker. That was what I imagined as I stepped onto my first construction site over 20 years ago. It was an intimidating time. I really wasn’t sure if I would be able to fit in. Now, I would use words like Stoic, resilient and comradery. When I first joined the trade, I couldn’t see past the image they were projecting. Hell, the first crew I worked in had just watched fight club and decided to shave their heads. Shannon, one of the first journeyman I worked around, told me that James was too formal a name to go by in construction. He also said I spoke too properly. “You should probably start cussing and take up dipping.” He was joking of course, so I picked through his half-hearted advice and decided to shave my head and go by Jimmy. Two changes that quickly started to help me make my projection of a construction worker. I couldn’t see it at the time, but I started creating a character to fit in with the rest of the trade. Part of me died that first year and the other half looked over it saying good riddance.

The work is physical, and I grew stronger. The journeyman would pick at you to toughen you up. Whatever insults they would throw at me, I would just laugh off. I was slowly becoming accepted. The guys would challenge me every day. I did things that I thought I could never physically do. One day, I had to carry a ten-foot, four-inch round, rigid conduit up a fifty-foot extension ladder to work on the scoreboard. At one point I had to climb the light towers at Great American Ballpark, which are two hundred feet tall. I could feel my nerves turning to steel as I made it to the top of the tower. I did everything they asked me to do with no complaints. One week, the journeyman set a pulley at the top of the tower and dropped a rope. With help from a clove hitch and some half hitches, I had to hoist two-inch rigid conduit up to them. The higher the conduit got, the heavier it felt. I feared I might let go or that the weight would soon lift me off the ground. My foreman Dan had enough confidence for both of us. He said, “You’ve got this!” And then he told me to “Lean into it! It will soon be at the top where two journeymen will take it from there.” If it weren’t for that group of guys and my fiancé at the time, I wouldn’t have made it through my first year. I had toughened up and my confidence soared. I owe them a great deal for the support they gave me. Those journeymen taught me how to be not only a electrician but how to be the next generation’s journeyman. This is really the strength of the Union. Learning through tough lessons, appreciating the journeymen who took the time to teach you, and then eventually being the journeyman who teaches the next generation. The circle just goes and goes.

Noone spoke of Mental Health when I first joined the trade, especially for men. My younger self wouldn’t have bought into that anyhow. Besides, mental health is for the weak. Right?

Towards the end of the job, our group dispersed, and I finished the project with another crew. That’s when I met a journeyman which I will call John. John was about 6’4 and looked like a body builder. I was a bit intimidated by him. Great American Ballpark was a two-year project and John only missed one week because of a flu, so I can imagine he saw a lot in two years. The job would be ending soon, but not soon enough for John. He was broken. One day at lunch he started to cry, and I didn’t know what to think. John told me that there is a lot of Egos in the trade and if you are not careful, they will knock you flat on your back and use you for a welcome mat.

It took me twenty years to really understand what he was talking about. I joined IBEW because there is strength in Unions. I believe in The Brotherhood. I like that we look out for each other. I joined the union to have a voice and to stand up for what is wrong. I believe we should have each other’s backs, and for the most part that is still true. There are members that let their egos get in the way. There are members that will ruin your reputation to save theirs. I’ve seen the best in people, and I have seen the worst. When you spend so many hours with the same coworkers you really see it all. John was right and I wish I had realized that sooner. Now, I know how important it is to protect your mental health. When you work long hours, find time to rest. Remember that every job we walk on isn’t forever. Look for the friendly journeyman on the job and have some conversations with them at lunch. Remember that you are not alone. If someone in this trade tears you down and tries to ruin your reputation, call on those who will help pick you back up. We will get through this together.

I will see you on the next one