The Night Watchman
By James Donahue
I landed a summer job as a night watchman at the Huron Milling Company in Harbor Beach, Michigan, just as I was graduating from high school. I had to give up the traditional senior trip to get this job because it started immediately. I was to work a swing shift, replacing the regular watchmen while they were on vacation.
It turned out to be a very good job. We worked out of a small building right at the gate to the factory. Workers had to pass through this building and punch a time clock when entering or leaving the plant. The man in the watchman’s shack observed everyone coming and going, and made sure strangers did not get through. Thus we were guards without guns.
There were two watchmen on duty at all times. One man was out walking a well-tread route through the plant while the other guarded the gate. We traded off every hour. Once I learned the route it was an easy job, but not always comfortable. Parts of that factory were about a half-century old and some of the buildings, and especially the massive warehouses, were really dark and spooky. I had to walk through all of them to get to the little keys hanging at various places in the plant. We carried a heavy watchman’s clock over our shoulder and punched a slowly turning paper inside the clock with each key punch. They all made unique impressions, thus letting the employer know we made our rounds on time and visited every key along the way. It was an ingenious way to make sure that someone was visiting every square corner of the plant at least once every hour and every day of the week.
Some parts of the plant had large vats of very smelly material that was literally cooking. We had to walk past these vats on narrow walkways, looking down into them. The heat was sometimes hard to endure. During the summer months the plant provided salt tablets for us to take because we were sweating away our natural body salts.
The night shifts were the best times to work, although going though that plant at night was the scariest time. We could usually finish our rounds in time to sit and talk with our partner for a while before the next rounds began. The regulars on that job were older men who had worked there for years. They all had great stories to tell. I made friends with all of them.
During the day the entire factory was busy. We had to watch out for activity, even when going through the warehouses, because large lift machines were moving pallets of material all over the place. The operators were not looking out for the watchman making his rounds. We also had a railroad yard with a small donkey steam engine that was busy switching cars around in the yard, preparing for the evening train when it arrived.
My route also took me through the main offices and the laboratory where my father worked. I discovered that he had his own private office. I rarely ran into him on the job, however. I think he moved around the plant a lot.
Sometimes when working during the afternoon shift, I had a few of my friends in town stop in to visit. Some of the people I encountered were not so friendly. One night when walking across the street to punch my clock in an old warehouse outside the gate, a carload of young men pulled up and threatened to attack me. It was obvious that they had been drinking. One of the guys in the car apparently had some kind of problem with me, although I can’t remember what that involved. I warded them off by swinging that heavy watchman’s clock in its leather case around my head. It would have done a lot of damage if it had hit anyone. The gang backed off and drove away. That never happened again.
I fondly remember those night drives home after working my shifts at the plant. There was rarely a car on the road. There was a great feeling of satisfaction knowing that I had a job that was going to help pay for my first year of college.
I ended that summer with $1,000 in the bank. In 1956 that was enough money to pay for my tuition and my books and cover a good part of my dormitory rent for the year. Those were good times.
By James Donahue
I landed a summer job as a night watchman at the Huron Milling Company in Harbor Beach, Michigan, just as I was graduating from high school. I had to give up the traditional senior trip to get this job because it started immediately. I was to work a swing shift, replacing the regular watchmen while they were on vacation.
It turned out to be a very good job. We worked out of a small building right at the gate to the factory. Workers had to pass through this building and punch a time clock when entering or leaving the plant. The man in the watchman’s shack observed everyone coming and going, and made sure strangers did not get through. Thus we were guards without guns.
There were two watchmen on duty at all times. One man was out walking a well-tread route through the plant while the other guarded the gate. We traded off every hour. Once I learned the route it was an easy job, but not always comfortable. Parts of that factory were about a half-century old and some of the buildings, and especially the massive warehouses, were really dark and spooky. I had to walk through all of them to get to the little keys hanging at various places in the plant. We carried a heavy watchman’s clock over our shoulder and punched a slowly turning paper inside the clock with each key punch. They all made unique impressions, thus letting the employer know we made our rounds on time and visited every key along the way. It was an ingenious way to make sure that someone was visiting every square corner of the plant at least once every hour and every day of the week.
Some parts of the plant had large vats of very smelly material that was literally cooking. We had to walk past these vats on narrow walkways, looking down into them. The heat was sometimes hard to endure. During the summer months the plant provided salt tablets for us to take because we were sweating away our natural body salts.
The night shifts were the best times to work, although going though that plant at night was the scariest time. We could usually finish our rounds in time to sit and talk with our partner for a while before the next rounds began. The regulars on that job were older men who had worked there for years. They all had great stories to tell. I made friends with all of them.
During the day the entire factory was busy. We had to watch out for activity, even when going through the warehouses, because large lift machines were moving pallets of material all over the place. The operators were not looking out for the watchman making his rounds. We also had a railroad yard with a small donkey steam engine that was busy switching cars around in the yard, preparing for the evening train when it arrived.
My route also took me through the main offices and the laboratory where my father worked. I discovered that he had his own private office. I rarely ran into him on the job, however. I think he moved around the plant a lot.
Sometimes when working during the afternoon shift, I had a few of my friends in town stop in to visit. Some of the people I encountered were not so friendly. One night when walking across the street to punch my clock in an old warehouse outside the gate, a carload of young men pulled up and threatened to attack me. It was obvious that they had been drinking. One of the guys in the car apparently had some kind of problem with me, although I can’t remember what that involved. I warded them off by swinging that heavy watchman’s clock in its leather case around my head. It would have done a lot of damage if it had hit anyone. The gang backed off and drove away. That never happened again.
I fondly remember those night drives home after working my shifts at the plant. There was rarely a car on the road. There was a great feeling of satisfaction knowing that I had a job that was going to help pay for my first year of college.
I ended that summer with $1,000 in the bank. In 1956 that was enough money to pay for my tuition and my books and cover a good part of my dormitory rent for the year. Those were good times.