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"Digging a ditch...well"
By Ken Root For those of us who feel a major part of our worth is in our ability to do work, I am reminded of my ancestry, especially my father, who told me many times: "If you can use a shovel, you'll always have a job." This statement motivated me toward higher education, as I saw it as defeatist thinking to rely on only a basic skill for one's livelihood. Now, at a time in my life when physical labor cannot be as aggressive and recovery is a lot slower, I think I understand his real message, one that has eluded me for so many years. Dad was good with a shovel and he knew it. I've seen the same characteristic in people who run computers. Neither technician had a knack for working with people, but both had an ability to commune with a machine. It all came down to gaining the desired end result with a simple instrument of science; one with binary memory, the other a modified fulcrum. He would use a 12-foot "straight edge" and a bubble level to lay out the ditch. He would cut the edges first and then begin working his way down, leveling the bottom for the desired purpose of installing a drain pipe or running a gas line or just digging a drainage ditch to move water away from a construction site. He'd speed through sandy soil and cuss the red clay or shale. If these impediments were too difficult for a shovel, he'd haul out the "maddox" (which I thought was a "mad-axe" because of how hard he swung it.) We had an oil pipeline that ran through our farm; the daily flight of the spotter aircraft revealed a leak. A truck load of men came in and dug out the six-foot deep line, with shovels. Dad showed me how they worked in tiers and went down only 6 inches on a single pass. As they got deeper it took half the men to move the dirt that the other half was digging out of the hole. These were professional workmen, with shovels. Some had probably started during the Depression, with the same tool, and found steady employment for their entire lives. It was a fun group for a 10-year-old boy to hang around, as they'd give me nickels to haul water to a tree they had to transplant and I'd listen to them tell stories, during their breaks. The next time the line leaked, the crew had a backhoe and only a small number of operators. They were in and gone, in just a few days. I was impressed by the big bucket and the work it could do. But I realized that something was missing--and I'm only now figuring out that it was the camaraderie of the crew that made a difficult job much more bearable. In my early 30s, living in Wichita, Kan., a friend and I started an underground sprinkler installation service. We had mortgages to pay at 14 percent interest (1981 to 1984) and the broadcasting job just didn't cover everything. I remembered that skill I'd learned at home and turned it into much needed income. Although we used a trencher as much as possible, the hard work had to be done with a shovel. And there was a certain satisfaction in the combination of skill and brute force required to do the job right. As a vocational agriculture teacher, I realized that some of the students in my shop class would never get another day of education, once they left high school. That motivated me to teach them whatever I could, to see if their natural talents would emerge. Welding was the centerpiece for us. It is a skill that requires hard work, along with a certain amount of finesse. It's hot and dangerous, but a person who knows their craft and shows up every day will always have employment. It is also a good fall back from other jobs, in case a clean shirt career goes south. It hurts a lot more to dig a ditch today than it did in my youth, but I have to say that I find joy in it, as I turn the garden soil inside a raised bed or smooth a spot for a patio. I am thankful that I don't have to live on the strength of my back, but I appreciate the generations who did so--to raise me up on their shoulders. Editor's note: Ken Root is now celebrating his 34th year as an agricultural professional. His career began as a vocational agriculture teacher then turned to agricultural broadcasting and writing as well as environmental consulting and association management. He was the original host of AgriTalk (1994-2001) and now is lead farm broadcaster for WHO Radio in Des Moines, Iowa. Date: 11/15/07
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