More Horses And Pretty Girls

By Michael George

Dave Sanders joins Linda, the love of his life in San Francisco. It's the sixties, and they immediately pick up on the lifestyle of the era and the city. Their life there is filled with joy and a lot of love, together and with others. Work is also filled with new adventures as Dave ventures into the new world of main frame computers, operating a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jun 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781648954559

Michael George

Michael is a retired carpenter with a varied working background - operated and programmed the old main frame computers, managed a 24/7 service station, managed a dairy farm, owned and operated a furniture building company, worked in various warehouses and food stores, and even picked potatoes with Mexican migrant farm workers. He was married for 55 years, had 5 children with only 3 still living, and has countless grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Linda’s friend, Mack, called it a symbol tree because it’s both an example of what life in this place once was and what life in this place has become. It’s a giant old oak tree. A magnificent example of a life form that began its journey over a hundred fifty years ago. It grew in a place that, until recently, was untouched by humans. At least, not by white humans. Which was the main reason it lasted so long.

Only a few years ago, it spread its branches over a wide expanse. Now the largest and widest spreading branches were barren of any life signs. They looked more like gnarled, old pieces of driftwood than tree branches. Looking at the tree with the right eye, one could easily see how it was a symbol of what once was. Look at it the way all too many did, and it was just a dying old eyesore that should be removed.

It was because it was close to a recently built road instead of deep in the woods where it originated that gave so many that impression. There was one powerful man in particular who hated the tree and constantly bitched that it should be destroyed. He was the man I was planning on paying a visit on this day. My kind of visit, not his.

I thought when I got there that the climb up the tree would be difficult. Carrying a rifle with a scope can be clumsy, but carrying it with the sling over my shoulder was relatively easy. The fact that all the lower branches were bare was a help too. The tree was also located in a spot that gave me the view I needed from fairly low in the tree.

I knew I wouldn’t get more than two chances and that if I needed to use the second chance, I’d likely miss. But when the limousine he was riding in slowed down as it got closer to the tree, I knew my chances were pretty good. Then he did something totally unexpected. He rolled down his window and poked his head and arm out. He shook his fist at the tree. Stupid. Really stupid.

I couldn’t help but smile as I took aim. When I was lined up with his forehead, I pulled the trigger. My aim was perfect, but I’m not going to describe the results of a high-powered bullet entering someone’s forehead. Almost anyone can imagine it. What might be a bit more difficult to imagine is how far the bullet went to improve life on earth.

I’d expected the car to stop after I shot him. I thought the driver would want to see who did it and maybe even take a shot at me. Instead, the limousine rapidly accelerated, leaving me alone to climb out of the tree, pack up, and get out of there.

I hadn’t gone out of my way to hide evidence or anything, so I expected that sooner or later, someone from the sheriff’s department would come around to, at minimum, question me. It never happened.

I have since talked to people from the sheriff’s department, especially Deputy Mack Thomas, but the subject of the killing has never come up. I often wonder if it isn’t more because of the way he felt about Linda than it is because he doesn’t know anything. I suspect, though, it had more to do with Linda. He cared deeply about her.

Or maybe it’s also that he just doesn’t care who did it. I think he’s grown ever more sick of people like the dead man and the constant harm they do to nearly everything they get near or touch.

The rumor is, there are just too many suspects to figure out who did it.

So I don’t think about it much anymore. Mostly, I like to look back and search through all the great memories. It was a long time ago, but San Francisco is one of the best. It’s where Linda and I started our wonderful life together.

Chapter 2

It was Saturday morning, my first Saturday morning in San Francisco. And I was having a hard time believing it was more than just a dream. Linda and I walked the short half block from her apartment to the taco stand on the corner. It was about nine, but they’d been open since eight, so the tacos were ready.

We each ordered one, along with a cold beer, and carried the tasty breakfast meals across the street and on to the beach. The sun was out and the surf was reasonably quiet, so we had a very pleasant walk along the shore. I couldn’t help compare this walk to one I took on a beach near Pensacola, Florida, not that long ago. The contrast between then and now, who I was then and who I am now, seemed huge.

Even if I’d been on the beach all alone, it would have been a big difference from what I remembered in Pensacola. With Linda by my side, it seemed almost impossible so much could have changed as radically as it had since then. And all the change was for the better.

I turned my head toward her, and she looked up at me and smiled. My heart missed a beat with her smile, and my head felt so light I had to stop for a second to take a deep breath. All I could do is wonder at the fact that I was actually where I was, and with her. Even though I’d wanted to visit this incredible city for a long time, it was being there with Linda that brought all that was happening to the place my dreams were made of. It was the sixties, San Francisco, and walking the beach with Linda. Unbelievable.

Are you okay? she asked when my move startled her.

I’m fine, I said, my face filling with a smile. I just suddenly realized where I am and who I’m with. It was shocking to find myself so lucky. To know we will be walking together, not just today, but a lot of tomorrows too. And that I’m allowed to love you as much as I do.

You say some strange things sometimes, Dave. Nice things like saying you love me are the best of them, and not so strange, even if it was mixed into strange. Can you tell me where all that just came from?

From some old memories that tell me how lucky I am to be with you, here, today. Back then, in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t imagine life as good as it is today.

I’m not sure I understand. Why would some old memories make you feel so lucky all of a sudden?

Because I just realized nothing makes me as happy, satisfied, and feeling lucky, as walking along this beach with you, Linda. Nothing could. There has never been anything in my life as special as you.

She laughed, took my hand, squeezed it, and leaned against me. So I laughed from the pure joy of her touch. We’d both been doing a lot of laughing the last couple of days, with life seeming to be so good. This time, though, it was even more special.

It wasn’t something that only seemed to be so incredibly good. It really was. Especially since our plans for our immediate future changed in the short time I’d been there.

Linda had planned to give a two weeks’ notice to her boss the day after I arrived in San Francisco, which was five days ago. Her boss convinced her to stay and work longer. Because she was the best computer programmer he had, he needed her to help complete a project they were working on.

She didn’t commit to it though, until after we talked it over. When I told her it was okay with me to stay longer, she told her boss she would work for a while, only with no definite date set for leaving. With her going to work every day, I knew I needed to find work somewhere. It was temporary, so I didn’t care much about what kind of work it was. My long-term future career was where home had always been, in Minnesota, not in San Francisco.

So Linda asked her boss if he knew of any openings in the warehouse, and there was one, but it was very temporary. They only had one thing for me to do.

The company she worked for as a computer programmer was a hardware wholesaler. My short-term job in the warehouse consisted of getting the needed products from far reaches of the warehouse to the area where products were stocked for the order pickers. I also stocked most of the product as it was delivered to the company from the manufacturer. The overstock I took back to the far reaches to be retrieved later.

I was working in the paint department. I was told when I started that it was in bad shape, and it would take at least two weeks for me to get it restocked and straightened out. It was the kind of thing I was often told about what it would take to do a job. The problem was, I was good at that kind of thing and had it stocked and organized by the time I ended the day on Friday, only three days later, not two weeks or more. That meant I might not have a job on Monday, and I would have to go looking for one.

I hated the idea of job hunting, but at least I didn’t need to worry about money the way I almost always did in the past. I had recently graduated from computer programming school, so I could have looked for a job somewhere in the computer field if we were planning to stay longer. We weren’t expecting to stay any more than six weeks, so I decided to take whatever work came first.

The main thing on my mind that Saturday morning, though, was Linda and being with Linda. Monday would take care of itself.

When we returned to her apartment after our walk, Linda and I sat on the couch and talked about what to do the rest of the day. Although I tried hard to concentrate on our conversation, the simple act of sitting next to her distracted me. Maybe it was her smile, the sound of her voice, the way she moved, her perfume, or, as often happened, her breasts were capturing most of my attention. They fit the rest of her body so perfectly, they were a wonder to my eyes. It was as though she was a magnet pulling me closer to her as we talked.

She knew what was happening, but didn’t make any move or say anything to stop me. Not even when I started to unbutton her blouse. Once open, I held her bra-covered breasts with my hand while I kissed her. She responded nicely to my actions, and when I fumbled with the hooks in the back of her bra, she leaned forward, took off her blouse, and unhooked her bra.

While she did that, I removed my shirt, stood up, and took off my pants and shorts. She raised herself up as I took her pants and panties off.

Let’s go to bed, she said.

Not this time, I told her, pulling her onto my lap, facing me. She surprised me then. She was as ready as I was and only hesitated for a second before raising up just enough to use her hand to guide me inside her. We sat quietly for a while, barely moving as the sensations built. I moved my head between kissing her and mouthing her breasts. Nothing ever felt more perfect.

My hands were all over her, touching and gently caressing, loving every second with her. As the momentum slowly built, we moved in a rhythm of our own making. Her eyes were shining bright when her time came. She cried out and pushed down on me with a powerful stroke. It was too much, and I quickly followed her, my entire body instantly filled with a lingering, pure pleasure.

When it was over, she moved to get up. I couldn’t let her go. I held her close and stayed inside her. I was satisfied, yet I still needed her.

You can’t tell me, she said, you’re going to do it again. Not after it was that strong.

I can’t let you go. I love you too much. I need you too much.

Oh, I know, I need you too, she said, following her words with a soft moan.

We started moving again, and as we did, she leaned back a bit, looked into my eyes, and smiled. I smiled back, then let my eyes roam over all of her perfect body that I could see.

It was great and lasted longer than the first time. It ended in the same awesome fashion, but even then, it was a while before I would let her get up.

I can’t say how much I love you, she said as she left my lap. I’m just too overwhelmed right now.

Me too, I agreed.

We took a nap then and slept for a couple of hours. We both woke up hungry, but food wasn’t part of the hunger, so it was another hour before we left the bed.

You might wear me out, she said as we got dressed, if you keep up the pace we’ve been going today.

I doubt it. I think I’ll have to do my best if I’m going to keep up.

Just so you don’t ever wonder, your best is the best I’ve ever had.

That’s mutual, Linda. So what do you want to do now?

Let’s go out and get something to eat, and by then, it’ll be time for the party.

She was referring to the party her boss was having for the computer department that Linda was a part of. It was something he did for his department periodically, which was nice for all the people who worked for him. It wasn’t, however, something I was particularly looking forward to. I was afraid I wouldn’t fit in with all those technical type people. Even if I’d graduated with top honors from computer programming school, I still didn’t feel all that expert on the subject.

We weren’t at the party long before the people who were there proved me wrong. The conversations were normal, with very few technical things talked about. Everyone was there to enjoy each other, not to talk shop, so there was very little of it.

Linda introduced me to everyone as we moved among them. They were all friendly, but two people stood out from the rest. The first was her boss, the manager of the computer department, Ray Frost.

As he shook my hand, he said, I’ve heard a lot about you. Not only from Linda, but from people in the warehouse.

I hope it wasn’t all bad, I answered, wondering why he would have heard about me at all.

It was quite the opposite actually. The foremen who I’ve talked to were all surprised with what you did in the paint department. Not many people are willing to work that hard.

I don’t think I worked particularly hard. I worked steady, the same way I always have. If I was back in Minnesota and trying to impress someone, I would have pushed it more.

That’s not what I heard. You were given more than two weeks to get the painting department in shape, and you did it in three days. Yet you don’t think you worked very hard?

No, I don’t. It didn’t take a whole lot to get the department straightened around. All I had to do is put things where they belonged, bring in the stock from the warehouse, and stock the new merchandise as it came in. It wasn’t complicated, it was just a matter of doing it.

Well, maybe so, but you have impressed a lot of people.

That’s good. Maybe then they’ll have more work for me when I go in on Monday. I sure don’t want to go job hunting already.

I don’t blame you for that. That’s not something any of us enjoy. Linda said you went to programming school. Did you like it?

Yes, I did.

How did you do? Did you graduate in the upper twenty percent of your class?

Actually, I won top honors for my graduating class.

Was that for the individual class you were in?

It was for the whole class that graduated when I did. The day classes and night classes for that period. Somewhere around three hundred of us.

Programming must have come easy for you then.

No. Learning it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I had to work my ass off to win that award.

Are you at all interested in working with computers?

Sure.

Then why aren’t you looking for a job in the field now?

I don’t think anyone would want to hire me now since I don’t plan on staying in San Francisco permanently.

That the only reason?

Right now, yes.

Well, if they don’t have any work for you in the warehouse Monday, come and see me. I might have something. It won’t be programming, but it’ll be in the computer department, so you’ll get some related experience.

Thanks. I’ll do that.

He broke off the conversation then and moved on to other people. He left us with the impression that he was just trying to be a good host.

The second person to leave a strong impression on me was Linda’s good friend, Renata. She was small, about five two, with a very well-proportioned figure. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was cute, pretty, good-looking, and very gentle on my eyes. She had a wide smile and a way of making you instantly feel special. I liked her right away. A lot. And I think she knew it.

The flirting started as soon as we were introduced. She slowly licked her lips, then winked, and moved in a way that made me think she was open to about anything. Especially when the music and dancing started. Linda and I danced through several songs, both fast and slow. When we took a break, as soon as a slow song came on, Renata took my hand and, without a word, led me out to the dance floor.

Without any hesitation, she moved in close and made sure I felt her breasts that she pressed against me. She continued to stay as close as she could through three slow songs. With the fast song that followed them, she led me back to Linda.

You were right, Linda, she said. I do like him, so you better keep a close eye on him. She laughed, then left us for a while.

Linda watched her walk away, then looked at me and smiled. So what do you think of Renata?

I like her. She’s awfully forward, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother me. It seems like that’s just her way. Not some phony thing she puts on to get attention.

It is her, Linda agreed. It’s part of why I like her, of why we became friends right away. It doesn’t even bother me that she meant it when she said I better keep an eye on you.

That’s something you don’t have to worry about, Linda. You are all I want. Other women, Renata included, don’t interest me at all.

I know. But I want you to know, it wouldn’t bother me if you were interested, as long as you never lied about it. Something like that, out in the open and honest, isn’t a big deal to me. It’s the sneaking and lying that I can’t tolerate.

I don’t think I can say the same thing. If you did something like that, out in the open or not, it would bother me. A lot.

I know, and I don’t plan on it. I love you too much, Dave. So don’t worry about it. It won’t happen as long as you feel that way.

Good. And don’t you worry. I don’t have any plans for Renata. Other than to be friends with her.

Linda laughed. I understand how you feel, but I also know you are in for a challenge.

We danced again then. After a couple of songs, we mingled with other people for a while, until Renata took me out for another slow song. While I danced with her, I couldn’t help wondering if she was only doing a little flirting or trying to suggest she had a lot more on her mind. I wondered even more when she kissed me as the song ended. I wasn’t the kind of kiss you get from someone who is only a friend.

It was late by then and we were both tired, so we called it a night. Renata caught us as we were leaving.

I wanted to say goodnight, she said, and to tell you, Dave, how nice it was meeting you. She looked at Linda. Hang on to him, kiddo. I think you’ve got the right one this time.

Linda just nodded, gave her a hug, and we left. It was a good night that only got better when we went to bed.

Chapter 3

Monday started bad. They didn’t have any more work in the warehouse for me right away. So I went to the computer department and looked up Ray Frost. The day immediately got better. He put me to work right away. One of his employees called in that morning and quit. I was going to be his replacement.

I started in what they called the bursting department. They had a machine there that separated the pages of the reports generated by the computer.

When the computer printed a report, the paper was fed through the computer printer in a constant stream. The paper was perforated between each page, so the bursting machine could pull the pages apart. It ran incredibly fast and made a snapping sound as each page was separated.

The bursting room was a mess when I started, with empty paper boxes dumped here and there. It also was crowded with full boxes of paper, none of them stored in any organized fashion.

Since the bursting machine didn’t need my constant attention, I started to straighten out the room while it worked on the reports. Luckily, some of them were fairly long, so I was able to get a good start on organizing things.

I broke the empty boxes down first, then piled them in a faraway corner. I tackled the full boxes next. I moved all of them into the same pile to make room to sort them, with each size paper in its own row. That gave me access to every size and type of paper without having to move other boxes to get to them. Since it was also my job to supply the computer room with paper as needed, the more organized the bursting room was, the easier my job was.

The only attention anyone paid to me was when they wanted me to do a report that needed bursting or paper delivered to the computer room, no one noticed anything else I was doing. They even often called for a report I’d already finished and put in the output bin. Apparently, in the past, getting reports out of bursting in a timely manner was an ongoing problem.

By early afternoon of my second day, because I now had the place organized in a way that made everything I was required to do much easier, I was constantly ahead of all the work I did. Since most reports were produced at night, my work load wasn’t as heavy. Not even on the mornings I had leftover reports from the night shift.

So when I was caught up, I went into the computer room to see if anyone had anything I could do.

What? the guy working with the 1401 IBM card system computer said. AAre you bored with bursting reports already? It is important that you get them out on time you know. It would be a good idea if that is what you stick with.

Well, you’re right, I am bored. But not because I’m tired of bursting reports. I’m bored because I don’t have any reports to burst.

With the amount of shit we’ve sent back there already today, I think you’d better double check on them. There ain’t no way you could have gotten them all done already.

Okay, I said, I won’t bother you.

That’s good. It’s best you stick with what you’re here for. This stuff is probably too complicated for you anyway.

I didn’t bother to argue with the guy or with the other two operators I asked if I could help. We were only briefly introduced when I started, so they had no way of knowing anything about me. From their point of view, I was just another body off the street, hired to break apart reports. So there was no way they were going to bother with me. They had enough to do without having to show me how to do anything.

I finished the day just doing the few reports produced and tried to ease the boredom by further organizing everything. It was a relief when the day ended and I could go home.

Neither Linda nor I felt much like cooking that night, so we stopped to eat at a small bar near her apartment. The place was nearly empty, so I was surprised at how good the hamburgers and fries were. I expected, with the lack of customers, the food would be mediocre at best. It was one of those times when it’s nice to be wrong.

The good food and cold beer didn’t keep us in the bar for very long. We were both anxious to get home and simply relax. We were sitting close on the couch and I was about to kiss her, when she asked me about my day.

Did you like working in computer operations? she asked.

She didn’t know much about what I was doing because the programming department was on the first floor and the computer operations department was located on a lower level.

It was okay, I said, but it could have been better.

I know you were in bursting. I’ve heard they tend to dump more work on you than you can get done. Is that what was wrong?

Not hardly. Not enough to do was more like it.

Really? Why did everyone else in that department complain about how hard it was then?

I don’t know for sure. I think, though, it has a lot to do with the culture. No one else who worked there was from Minnesota.

What the hell do you mean by that? What has being from Minnesota got to do with anything?

From what I’ve seen in way too many places, the work ethic leaves a lot to be desired. Places I’ve worked outside Minnesota, people tend to take it pretty easy. So it isn’t hard to look good just by working at a normal Minnesota pace.

I don’t know that you’re right about that. I’m from Iowa, and we have a strong work ethic, but even there, I saw plenty of goof-offs.

I won’t argue that. So have I. I remember digging wells in North Dakota. The two guys I worked for there were both from Minnesota and were close to useless. Especially the so-called foreman. Overall though, people from Minnesota tend to work harder than people from most other places.

That’s your complaint? Not enough work to do?

No, if that was the only issue, I would bring along a good novel and fill in my time reading. I love to read. No. The main problem is, I would like to learn about all phases of the operations department. I don’t expect to have anyone teach me everything right away, but letting me help sorting cards for the 1401 card system would be a good start. There are a lot of other things I could do there, with all the offline equipment they have. And from watching the 1401 operator work, there are plenty of times he could use some help.

Have you talked to Ray about it?

No, and I don’t plan to, Linda. He’s got enough to worry about without listening to me complain. I also doubt that complaining about my job, when I’ve just started, would make a very good impression. And I really appreciate having the job. It beats the shit out of having to look for one.

I think you should talk to him anyway. I doubt very much that he’s heard many, if any, complaints about not having enough work to do.

Probably not, but there is one other thing. If I complained about it, it would probably make the other guys in the department look bad. I don’t want to do that. Those guys all really do work hard.

That I know, but if you stay dissatisfied for very long, then tell him. He can’t give you more work if he doesn’t know you want or need more work.

We’ll see.

Chapter 4

It was late Thursday when Ray Frost came into the computer room. He stopped and talked to the operators, then came to see me. He looked a little surprised when he came into the bursting room.

I heard that you straightened up in here, he said. No one told me it looked like this. I’ve never seen this room so organized.

I don’t know why not, I told him. It’s a lot less work when it’s organized.

I expect it is. How do you like your job so far?

It’s okay.

Just okay. I thought you might like working with computers. Even if it is in operations.

I would, if I was working with computers. Even indirectly. But bursting forms and delivering paper when the operators ask for it isn’t exactly what I would call working with computers.

Why don’t you go out and give the guys a hand then?

They don’t want one. Not from me anyway.

Have you asked them if they wanted help?

A couple of times.

"And…?

For the most part, they don’t think I smart enough to do any of their complicated work.

You sound a little sarcastic, Dave. Do you have some kind of problem with those guys?

No. The attitude they have is pretty common.

What attitude is that?

They live and, in this case, work in their own special world. They don’t need someone who is stupid enough to take a job bursting reports interfering with it.

You sound like you don’t like it here.

I like it here just fine, Ray, and I’ll do the job you hired me to do as long as I’m here. No one has complained that I’m not doing it have they?

No, and that’s part of the reason I stopped down here today. Normally, I don’t go through a single day without someone bitching about a late report because bursting is behind. I haven’t had one complaint since you started. Not even when the night shift didn’t finish up their work.

Good. Is there anything else you want me to do during the day? I usually have some free time.

That’s something else I’ve heard. Some people have seen you sitting down and reading a book. Is that true?

Yes. It helps kill the time when there’s nothing to do.

You mean you actually did all this extra work cleaning up this room, have managed to get out all the reports they’ve given you on time, have done everything else you were told to do, and still had some time to read?

Yes. I’m almost done with the novel I’m reading.

Ray scratched his head, then said, I’m going to have a talk with the operators. How do you feel about sorting cards?

I think it’s kind of fun.

Ray laughed on his way out of the room.

He stopped and talked to all of the operators before he left the operations area. I sat down to read, but the 1401 operator came into the bursting room.

I was told that you know how to run the card sorter, he said. I could use some help.

That’s what I’m here for, Bob, I told him.

Good.

I followed him to the 1401 area and to the card sorter. It was called a high speed sorter—about a thousand cards a minute—that could handle a stack of cards about thirty inches tall each time it was loaded. There was a rack behind the sorter large enough to handle all the cards as they were sorted. The cards were sorted one column at a time, starting with the ones column, then the tens column, and on up until all the required columns were sorted.

I did a lot of card sorting while I was in computer school, so the job and the card handling weren’t difficult for me. The first job Bob gave me involved only a few thousand cards, and there were only four columns to sort, so I finished it quickly.

After, I had a few reports to burst, so I did them. When I finished, I asked Bob if he had anything else for me to do.

That’s the only sorting job I have right now. Do you know how to run any of the other online machines?

All of them. That’s the first thing they taught us in programing school. Learning offline card machines was the first third of the class.

So you’ve used a reproducer?

I have.

Good. We’ve got a job to do right now. But you have to really watch the machine. It’s flaky as hell, and you know what happens if it misses a mark.

Yeah, a mess of destroyed cards.

The reproducer read what are called header cards that have specific information on them. The machine read those cards and punched information from them into the data cards that followed. One of the most common pieces of information would be a customer’s address. Doing it this way saved the keypunch department a lot of work. When they punched the needed information into a data card, rather than punching the customer’s whole address, they would only punch the customer number in. The reproducer did the rest.

The problem came in when the reproducer missed the signal which told it there were new headers and data cards. The signal was a special punch in the header card. When it was missed, it punched the information, both from the old and new header cards. If the operator didn’t catch that right away, the card soon had extra punches which left all the information useless. That meant re-keypunching not only the data cards, but also the header cards. Something the department never had the extra time to do.

So I watched the machine very closely when I did the job, and it went off without a hitch. But as far as I was concerned, it was a problem anyway. It forced the operator to concentrate on the one machine, when to operate the 1401 area efficiently, it was sometimes necessary to have as many as four machines going simultaneously. And that gave me an idea for a program to do the reproducing on the 1401 computer, which was reliable. The only problem with using the 1401 to do the work is that it would do it differently than the reproducer. The 1401 would reproduce a whole new deck of cards, so more cards would be used. Even so, it would eliminate enough problems to justify using the extra cards. As simple as using the reproducer was, it had other built in problems.

The reproducer, along with many other online machines in the 1401 area, were controlled using a board with places to insert wires. Where the wires were inserted told the machine what fields in the card to punch. For most jobs, the operator setup (wired) the board. Once learned, it was a simple task. So simple that many careless operators had destroyed stacks of cards by mis-wiring a board. Another common problem was the wires themselves. They were extremely lightweight, and operators, in a hurry, frequently removed them by yanking them out before setting up a new job. They would often break the wire inside its plastic coating. The only way the break could be detected is if the wire was bent tight at the break area. That meant there were a lot of jobs ruined by bad wires. So I realized that eliminating the reproducer problems would go a long way to solving a lot of other problems, which would smooth out and speed up the workflow.

After that, instead of reading when there was nothing for me to do, I wrote the program. I entered the code onto special forms for programming in the language, called Symbolic, the 1401 used, and then, slow as I was, I keypunched the cards for the program myself. With Bob’s permission, I assembled it on the 1401 with what was appropriately called, the assembly program. It converted the language I used to write the program into the language the computer uses. The program I wrote was a fairly simple program, so when I tested it, it only had a couple of bugs in it. Once it was ready to use, I told Bob how