The Air Crafters: Airplane Mechanics

By Reggie L. Ortiz

" After spending 40 years in aircraft and working around all types of people, in Management, Company Inspector, Air Force, and Navy Inspection teams, Engineers, not to mention some pilots that couldnt start the engines, things tend to happen. When you are involved in mass production of airplanes and trying to keep a schedule especially at the end of the month people are worked 10-14 hours a day not mention Saturdays and Sundays. People come in drunk, become irritable and hard to work with, mistakes are made and people get hurt."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 8, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462833368

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Copyright © 2002 by Reginaldo L. Ortiz.

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This was the beginning of a big contract for countless small and fast Interceptors; the work load was starting to pile up and even working overtime wasn’t getting the job done; the men were getting grouchy, careless and hard to work with. One day on a Friday afternoon around quitting time, the shit hit the fan when the Foreman Joe Rudi came around with the checks and asked the crew to come in Saturday and Sunday to catch up.

Ed Daniels was all hands riveting some panels together to finish the rework, and to make Saturday and Sunday fishing at the lake nearby.

Ed, come in tomorrow and Sunday and start on the other ship, will you? We got to get them out soon; we are getting behind again, Joe asked, as he handed Ed his check.

Hey! Now wait a minute, I’ve been busting my ass trying to get this crap together for you, in fact for the past six weeks. Hell, I’m not about to come in! Ed was furious. What the hell do you mean behind! You know I’ve been here ten years and it’s the same shit with you people!

Yes! Yes! I know Ed, but that’s what they want; pleaded the soft spoken Foreman, trying to avoid trouble with Ed.

Look Joe, blasted Ed, and easy going man of forty with a lot of aircraft experience. "I’ve been planning on this outing for a longtime and I’m not going fishing; you God damn people don’t own me yet!

But you have to come in. Ed, you’re the key man . . . you’re the only one that knows the job.

Don’t give me that bullshit, Joe, you people didn’t think about that when I asked you people for a raise a couple of months ago—now all of a sudden I’m special! Hell no, I’m not coming in!

The rest of the crew are coming in, answered Joe.

Look Joe, what they do is their own business not mine; for sure you and the Crew Chief will be here—if you two ever took a day off you’d probably drop dead.

The point was made and Joe felt very uneasy. Then, he asked you aren’t coming in, right?

That’s right Joe and you can take that to the bank.

Joe made a beeline back to his office where he met Bill Lyker, the Crew Chief and motioned him into his office.

What? Saturday and Sunday—you’re crazy I’ve got plans already. I’m going out of town to the big city.

I guess you’ll have to break it, Bill. I need you and your crew in tomorrow to finish that airplane.

Bill blew up. What the hell is wrong with the other Crew Chief, they never get the shit like we do . . . they some kind of prima donnas?

Easy, Bill, it’s not that bad, you get your equal share of work around here.

Your ass . . . Joe and you know it, we always seem to get these dogs nobody wants and then you and that baldheaded bastard upstairs want them in two days or sooner. Screw him, I’m taking off and so are my crew; they deserve the rest. Bill went out and headed toward his airplane.

Hey, Bill, come here! Did numb nuts see you? asked Ed.

Yeah, he did Ed.

Are you working over the weekend?

Hell no, I already have plans—that old bastard upstairs probably needed extra time to break-even. By the way did you get your check?

Sure did, Joe almost cried when he gave me the check and I refused to come in. By the way, what ship were we going to work on?

Old 94, he wanted to get that started.

To bad Bill, I’m leaving tonight for a nice weekend and forget this place for awhile; my wife should be packed and ready to roll, time I go to the bank and get home . . . then Adios.

I’m taking off too, Ed. It’s about time I had a day off. You know I haven’t had a day off in four months; seven days a week; that’s too much even for a dog. But you know, Ed I don’t know which is worse going home or coming to work; at least here I don’t have to listen to her preaching.

Bill, I’ve never heard anybody complain about his home life as you do. It’s not that bad is it? asked Ed.

Hey let me tell you, Ed, Bill answered, a man who was quick to respond to his home life—a wound that would never heal.

Being here is paradise—That broad—All she does, is have channel forty on all day long, she doesn’t even do her housework—I got to do my meals, dishes, and the laundry, so in a way I’m glad to be away from her.

Why don’t you move out or get a divorce, Bill. I guess I’m lucky to have a wife like mine.

You’re lucky, Ed . . . Mine is nuts, that’s why I haven’t left her. About two years ago she sort of lost her marbles—she got into the holly-rollers bit and it just went to her head. I’m not against religion, Ed; it’s when you eat and sleep with it.

Sounds pretty bad, Bill.

Bad is right, Ed . . . She never cleans the house anymore, she has clothes scattered all over the house, can’t even find a place to sit. So for the weekend, I’ll go and see my French broad and by Monday I’ll be a new man, Bill cracked a smile.

Yes, I know every time you come back from there you’re a new man alright. Hey, Bill, if I was you I’d dump this one and head for the French broad.

Don’t think I haven’t thought about it very strongly, Ed, but I can’t leave her, not while she’s in that condition . . . one thing for sure she’ll either straighten out or I’ll have her committed, Bill strongly pointed out.

That’s too bad, Bill, I sure feel for you . . . now I know I’ve got a good wife and home to come to, no complaints compared to you, Ed assured.

Hey don’t look now but I think trouble is coming down the aisle . . . It’s Joe and Baldy, and they got Ruzz with them.

Wonder what the hell is cooking? asked Bill turning around.

I don’t know, but I don’t think we have won any awards, do you think?

No, but that look on Baldy isn’t very appealing not when his eyes and face are red.

Baldy as he was called, was Jess Mucher, had been with the company for thirty years and was soon to retire and being in management for hears knew all the moves . . . He cheated here and there to make his department look good; kept a hard rein on his budget. Guys said he could pull a fart out of a dead horse.

Bill, Baldy scorned, throwing his hands around his fat belly waist. How come you and the crew aren’t coming in for the weekend . . . these airplanes have to move.

I’m not, replied Bill. I was taking off this weekend and that’s what I’m doing come hell or high water.

Baldy turned to Ed. How about you, Ed, we need you bad.

Sorry, I’m going fishing; besides I’ve been more than fair with you people; I’ve worked my ass to the bone to keep up the schedule and keep you people happy; but there is no end to it; sorry I need the time off with my family. If you want to I’ll come in early Monday, Ed suggested.

Baldy’s eyes got redder and his hand started to shake around his waist. Where’s Ruzz? he yelled. Have him come into your office I want to talk to him now.

You guys sure are making things hard, remarked Joe in his meekly voice. Why don’t you guys come in and go fishing next week, Ed?

Bullshit, Joe, I’m going and that’s final, and besides in one minute the whistle is about to blow, and so I’m hauling ass, see you. Ed grabbed his tools and threw them into his roll away box locked it, grabbed his lunch box and sat on the bench and waited for the last whistle to punch his time card.

Ruzz walked into the hanger as the last whistle blew and the hanger came alive as mechanics weaved in and around the airplanes like worms coming out of the woodwork; soon a long line at the time clock. Ruzz made a dash for his roll away box next to where Ed’s was.

Better go and see Baldy, he’s waiting for you in Joe’s office.

What for . . . what did I do? Why me? asked Ruzz Lotz. A small, nervous, and accentic man . . . Mucher’s butcher he was known as.

I don’t know, Ruzz, maybe they want you to come and work over the weekend . . . see you later.

Ruzz walked into Joe’s office; Joe and Baldy were in a heated argument. Want to see me, Mr. Mucher?

Yes, we do, Ruzz. How about coming in over the weekend and finishing 837; we need it for Monday? Joe in his timid way was fumbling for a cigarette.

It’s this way, Ruzz. Baldy came right to the point. Ed and Bill aren’t coming in and I need that airplane. How about it, Ruzz, you help me and I help you. Deal?

Me, well sure; but who’s going to help me, can’t do it by myself.

Joe there will be here and he can give you a hand . . . he used to be a structure man . . . right, Joe?

I’ll be here, Ruzz, don’t worry, Joe answered not pleased with the idea.

Okay, Mr. Mucher, I’ll be here bright and early, you can count on that.

I knew I could count on you, Ruzz, Mucher said slipping his big hairy arm around little Ruzz, giving him a little hug.

After Ruzz had left, Baldy reached for the door, he turned, as he opened the door. Joe, he said, that airplane better be finished when I come in Monday; get me?

Joe swallowed a ball of air and just stared at the wall. When

Baldy walked through the door, Joe grabbed his unfinished lunch and threw it into the trash, trying to kill his anger.

Monday morning Ed raced to the time clock which seemed miles away from the parking lot; at times he thought of begging for a car pass which he could get if he was one of Mucher’s Prima Donnas; one thing for sure he wasn’t about to kiss anybody’s ass for one. Ed hurried and managed to punch the clock as the last whistle blew, went into the hanger and saw that his airplane had been moved. At his roll away box, Ed opened it, put his lunch away and waited. The crews were slow in getting started; some drank the last of their coffee; others exchanged their weekend experience.

Hi, Ed, how was the fishing . . . get anything? asked Ben Yokker, from one of the other crews.

Sure did, Ben, fish were really biting, even had to give some away. The weather and everything was perfect . . . no problems.

Plenty of beer, Ed?

You know it . . . what’s fishing without beer, eh?

Say, Ed have you seen Bill this morning? asked Ben with a grin.

No, I haven’t, Ben, in fact I haven’t seen anybody and in fact I was just waiting for somebody to ask. Anything wrong?

Ben laughed. Somebody gave Bill a face-lift . . . poor guy he looks bad.

What, somebody hit him with a truck? asked Ed somewhat concerned.

Not really, Ed, just that a couple of guys worked him over at a parking lot down below. Look here he comes.

Down the aisle, Bill came dragging a crowd behind, laughing and carrying on with Bill as he tried to hide the painful humor.

From here he looks like the train hit him and dragged him, Ed pointed out. One side of his face hangs out over his dark glasses. Guess I better go over there and see him, he might not make it this far. Ed walked over and stood in front of Bill; looked him over and then he said, My god man what in the hell got a hold of you . . . your face, it looks like roast beef!

A couple of kids tried to mug me at this parking lot down in Inngleknook; but you know for my age, I can still dish it out.

Yeah I can see that, what did they use a meat tenderizer? Ed started laughing.

No, No, they got me from behind, replied Bill taking his glasses off. My car wouldn’t start; I saw this one young kid on a Honda so I asked him if he could get me a tow truck and I gave him ten dollars for his troubles and he took off. I was leaning on my car waiting for the tow truck when something hit me from behind, my knees buckled and I hit the pavement half out, but I came up swinging; no way were they going to get my $600 watch . . . I hit this one kid I think I broke his nose and my finger; here look. I don’t know how, but I fought them off; one kid I think had brass knucks.

Well, whatever they had, your face looks like hamburger; at least they left your good side alone.

Tell me about it, Ed, but you know my French broad nursed me for a couple of days—she even took all my money and put me to bed then Sunday she sent me home.

You see there Bill she didn’t have to mug you to get your money . . . she just took it and with you trouble, right?

Yes, but she used charm to do it and them some more. Bill went on talking about his weekend experience and soon a big crowd formed with Bill being the center of attraction.

Joe walked out of his office and upon seeing the big crowd walked over to see what the commotion was about, and when he saw Bill in the middle of the crowd waving his hands he went over to the crowd.

What’s going on here? Joe asked, walking through the crowd. My god! Man what happened to you Bill?

Couple of kids tried to mug me, Joe, but I managed to get the upper hand.

Looks like the other way around, Bill, he replied as he looked at Bill.

"It’s not that bad, Joe. I’m okay, just