A few weeks ago, while at work, I came across an older gentleman sitting quietly watching the construction happening outside in our parking lot, equipment and operators moving here and there. The hotel, well the entire property, is under some severe construction to make improvements that will be better for our guests and team members.
It struck me funny because internally, our property literally has flashing lights, loud sounds and big, bright ‘bells and whistles’ of electronics for one to stare at, it just wasn’t here in front of the big bay window looking out into the parking lot.
I walked up to check on him and asked if everything was OK and if there was anything he needed? He looked up at me and stated that he had been a construction worker for many years and with all the changes and updates with modern technology, he found it entertaining to just watch the guys work, while his wife was downstairs gambling.
I stepped in closer and perched myself on a chair and asked him what he liked about it.
He began to tell me stories of being in remote areas and doing backbreaking work for pennies a day in wages, and it was at that moment that I looked at his face and could see that he was not upset about that, but that he missed it. He told me of medical emergencies, stories of having to make their own tools out in the field, he even told me how cold the beer was at the end of the day and assured me that there was nothing in the world like a cold beer at the end of a work day that you gave your all for.
Needless to say, I liked him immediately.
Listening to him was like listening to a voice from the past and the more I listened to him, the more stories he shared. It was at that moment in the middle of a story about making tools for a broke down front end loader at a site, that he told me he liked machine work so much that he would go home on his days off and run toy trains in his home!
Now, these are not your ordinary trains that you go to a hobby store, pick up and they are ready to run. These “toys“ were handmade, hand-machined, measured to precision and even made from spare parts of other household items, because things were not as available as they are now.
Oh my God, I was in heaven.
It was then that I told him about my interest in trains, and had been since I was a small boy, sharing with him that I had my Dad’s original Lionel Toy Train. His face lit up like I had just given him a million dollars. He asked me questions about the engine and the tender, he asked me the length and the weight and the breadth of the engine, he even asked me about the wire coils on the electric motor and told me stories of how, by choosing different metal wire, I could either get the model train to move faster, slower, smoother, or even wire it to pull a heavier load. I told him about the work that I had done on it for my Dad and we ran it the last Christmas my Dad and I spent together in my home.
I’d been staring out the window in the same direction that he had been looking, watching these workmen scurry around like ants on a hill, and when he did not respond, I looked back at him and noticed the tears in his eyes.
“That’s what it’s all about,” he said with a choked-up voice.
“That’s what it’s always been about,” he said, “the memories, oh, how I love those memories.”
I turned away from him because I was afraid that I would tear up as well.
He told me that before he worked construction, he worked on the rails that went from Minneapolis to Chicago, the exact line that my Father would ride with my Great-grandmother from Minneapolis to parts unknown. The exact line, with the exact train that my dad rode, fell in love with, and asked for as a toy train for Christmas! I know to some of you this might not seem like much, but to me, the work that this man did in his young life affected a man who passed it on to me. It was like I had found a long lost family member.
I shared more time with this man, now sitting in the chair next to him, picking his brain about the Chicago Hiawatha Railroad line, mechanics of old Lionel trains, construction work of the 40’s and 50’s. We even compared stories about family, wives, children and of course, the occasional train layout that would pop up in our basements on and off over the years.
After spending about 15 to 20 minutes with him, I realized I had to get back to work. He introduced himself to me and I to him, and we shook hands like we had worked the line together and we were going to get that one cold beer at the end of the night. Why do I think that?
Because he wouldn’t let go of my hand.
As I started walking away, he said to me, “This is why we come here. My wife can go downstairs and over the course of several hours spend and win $20 over and over, but I come here to just watch and what do you know, while watching, I found you,” he raised his hand to point at me.
“We come here every couple of weeks and now I have somebody that I can talk to.” My response was a resounding, “Yes sir, that you do!”
As I got into the elevator to go downstairs, his words were still ringing in my ear, “This is the reason I come here, because of this.”
Did you know that it is possible to make your mark in a day just by listening?
Have a GREAT day.
