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That is an honest to goodness “walk into the office and give the manager a firm handshake” story.

I guess the perception is that in the ‘50s there was work available for those who wanted it and big rewards (a car), for those who carried through. I don’t know how common these experiences actually were, or if there is selection bias, but my parents generation impressed on me that this was a common lived experience.

I can’t imagine now, or anytime in the last 15 years, a teenager being able to walk into an office and be expected to show up and work the next day in a hard industrial job. Now what they will hear is either “we don’t hire anyone under 18” or “apply online” and sit idle in a holding pattern till they’re needed. Modern suburban homes (common for the middle class) are far away from the productive centers of the city and car ownership is a requirement for servicing basic needs, such a getting groceries. Access to reliable transportation is a requirement for attaining jobs, so it’s a bit of a catch-22 if you’re young and looking for work in 21st century America.

I may be going on a limb here, but the days this story is from are long gone and cannot be used as a template for today’s youth. The best bet for being middle class, if you’re young, is to educate your self as fast as possible, and as cheaply as possible. Spend time in high school taking AP classes to take the AP tests to circumvent many gen-ed requirements, do extracurricular activities to look good to colleges and on scholarship applications. Graduate in three years to keep from accumulating too much debt. Do summer internships to have a job to go to after you graduate, and don’t waste time with the summer job that will pay you minimum wage.

Your comment reminds me of Scott Alexander's review of On the Road:

> Even more interesting than their ease of transportation to me was their ease at getting jobs. This is so obvious to them it is left unspoken. Whenever their money runs out, be they in Truckee or Texas or Toledo, they just hop over to the nearest farm or factory or whatever, say “Job, please!” and are earning back their depleted savings in no time. This is really the crux of their way of life. They don’t feel bound to any one place, because traveling isn’t really a risk. Be it for a week or six months, there’s always going to be work waiting for them when they need it. It doesn’t matter that Dean has no college degree, or a criminal history a mile long, or is only going to be in town a couple of weeks. This just seems to be a background assumption.

https://slatestarcodex.com/2014/12/02/book-review-on-the-roa...

My older brother tells a story that as a 10-ish old boy he, for whatever reason, followed along with our father as he was applying for a job (carpentry) much like this gentleman did.

He told me the following dialogue happened:

"How much you asking for?"

"maybe a hundred" (Swedish Krona)

"Well you got yourself a deal boy, cause I pay monthly!" (implying he would get 100SEK per month)

he didnt get the job...

There are backbreaking jobs today, but are filled by immigrants who treat the lousy job as a career.

In the 70's a guy could get a backbreaking job, and still have opportunities of getting something better. A union construction job was usually a test away from a hire.

You could afford an apartment, by yourself, or 1 roommate, with the wage paid. (An apartment by yourself, and not cramming multiple families under one roof.)

In the 80's a guy getting out of prison actually had a few jobs that were waiting. Buying a truck, and starting an unlicensed landscaping business was always there. House painting was always there. Tree Trimming business was always there.

Today there's just too much competition, and bonds, licenses, and customers who know the rules. And customers who know they can hire on the very cheap if they have too.

And you could live in a one room apartment, and pay your bills. Hell, you could even go out on the weekends and feel potent. You could look at the pansy wealthy boys and smirk.

As for teens, and twenty somethings, who didn't want to break their backs; there were always cashier jobs, sales, stocking, security, etc.

Now--those jobs are treated as careers by desperate immigrants.

Immigrants who have different cultures than American. I said nothing about race. I'm talking culture. There's many of you looking to pounce--I know.

The story was written well. I was looking for a rich guy's name as the Writer. Wealthy boys like to write about the time dad made them get a lousy job. Oh, they never mention dad. It was always their decision to get that hard job. Later in life they can claim they know what it's like to work hard. And at best it was only a few months of getting their hands dirty. In their Horacio Algier's fictional mind they actually belive they are the hard working Americans, but they use money as their tool. They always leave out all the perks of growing up wealthy, and sympathetic dad that helps out at the right times right up into their 40's.

The difference is the poor work hard everyday. They wake up with their muscles hurting. It's cool until you hit 45, or maybe 50. After that homelessness becomes a viable option.

America should be ashamed of itself.

You got more profit by making product overseas. You somehow convinced workers unions don't work.

You allowed in too many poor cultures to fill those lousy jobs American teens/twenties used to count on.

I don't feel like a debate. I've been wanting to say this for awhile.

“I can’t imagine now, or anytime in the last 15 years, a teenager being able to walk into an office and be expected to show up and work the next day in a hard industrial job”

To be honest, in my anecdotal experiences, the teenagers aren’t asking for these jobs anymore. I’m one of the youngest people at the company I work for and I’m 32, I’ve been here for 3 years as an apprentice mason and 2 years as a laborer. We’ve had 2 people work for us (30-35 employees at any given time) that were younger than me. We are always hunting for new masons/laborers/operators but we end up subbing out work to other companies a lot because we just can’t find the help.

I got my job in a very similar manner as the author, albeit a modernized version. My cousin posted something on Facebook about the company he worked for needing help, and I naively thought my attention to detail and trigonometry knowledge would come in handy. I showed up the next day and was now the new bottom of the totem pole. My job for weeks was mixing mortar and carrying the heaviest things I’ve ever had to pick up in my life to the tippy-top of some 30 foot tall scaffold setups.

My first day I went to a McDonald’s down the road to eat lunch and was so exhausted I couldn’t chew. I was covered in mud and mortar, shaking from exhaustion, and mentally drained at the pace everyone worked and asked for things that I had no familiarity with. (I.e. “get me a <mud board> <16-foot level> <brick stretcher> <wall ties> <grass> <tuck pointer>” … I’ll let you figure out which ones are real ;) )

I contemplated never going back, literally leaving McDonald’s and going home. The only thing that made me go back was fear of embarrassment. I’d be embarrassed to face my cousin at the next family get together, so I went back. I went home and cried because I’d breathed in so much mortar dust I’d chemically burned my throat so bad that the one Dorito I managed to eat that night turned to sand in my mouth and felt like glass on the way down.

My second day experience was much like the authors; I hurt in places I didn’t even know were parts of my body. (That goes away after the first year or so) I asked for a mask while mixing and was told to “not breath” which is a method I still adopt on days I’m unfortunate enough mix my own mortar (think of it like the front crawl while swimming).

You’re right that transportation is looked at as a plus, but we’ve got plenty of guys working for us now that will never have their license again for various alcohol and drug related reasons. Some still drive, others get rides, if you’re good at your job, people don’t mind picking you up.

There are still places you can walk into in the morning and be working by the afternoon. Are you interested in learning more and live around Madison or Milwaukee, Wisconsin? I’ll text you an address just show up Monday morning 7am. Not a joke, this glamorous job can be all yours, no experience, drivers license, tools, diploma, prior experience, general knowledge, attention to detail or trigonometry needed.

That being said, 9/10 people we hire won’t last more than a week if they’re green. I don’t blame em, the work is hard, benefits are nonexistent, and prospects for the future pretty bleak. I started at $14/hour in 2014, took time off to found a company based on an invention I had a provisional patent for, came back in 2019 at $20/hr and worked my way up to $30/hr with maybe another $5-$7 worth of potential growth left. Which is okay, not great by the standards of most on this site I’m sure, but I genuinely enjoy the work I do now. We build some really cool stuff and I look at it as getting paid to learn. I’m not crazy about the hours, or working through the winter, or being away from my daughter so much now that she’s becoming more aware. But they’ve got me hooked, I’ve specialized my labor so much so that going back looks like a much worse prospect than continuing forward....

Amazing story, and very well written. Thank you for sharing it.
> I can’t imagine now, or anytime in the last 15 years, a teenager being able to walk into an office and be expected to show up and work the next day in a hard industrial job.

The reason for this is that US Federal labor laws now prohibit the employment of anyone under 18 in hazardous work. This encompasses most things that would be considered "hard industrial jobs," including the specific example of brick manufacturing in this story.

This is ostensibly for the protection and benefit of young workers. Of course, if you're a 16-year-old who wants the job, I can see how you could feel otherwise.

What a cool story. As the author clarifies at the end, he means Berlin, CT. (It's pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable.) My mother was raised there—I grew up not far away—and I still have family in the area.

I don't know much about the brickworks, but I have seen the steam shovel mast that the author mentions sticking out of a pond. There's a potato-quality photo of it on the website of the Berlin Historical Society:

http://berlincthistorical.org/exhibits-collections/industry/