Mine was an old finish carpenter named Walter Gaskell. One of the real
old-style, old-timers. He did finish-work in some of the finest
buildings in Sarasota, Florida in the 20s-40s, I think he said. He
also lived elsewhere in the state doing many other carpenter-
affiliated jobs into the 1980s. I believe he passed away in 1992…..
Before I could come to realize what he had done for me, taking me
under his wing and teaching me practically everything I know. Before I
was aware enough to thank him for it (and for everything else he did
for me).
He came from Jacksonville Florida and was a nice old guy…. At least,
once he took a shine to you! He raised quite a bit of hell with me
until I finally learned who was the boss! ‘Pappy’ we used to call
him.... I ran a radial arm saw in a saw shop and he was the
Supervisor. He was already into his 70s then and he was quite a
character. He taught you more than just how to use a framing square or
how to change a saw blade. He taught you that carpentry and wood were
made for each other. Even with the rough framing material we were
cutting, he taught us to be proud of our work. He would tell us often
to take our lumber crayons and write our names and the date and what
we did on sporadic boards after we cut them, so that at some future
time, people might stand transfixed with our work of glory! It wasn't
funny. It was serrious! At least it was to him and he instilled that
down into us. And frankly, that kind of thinking has followed me into
every other aspect of my life, down until this day.
Walter insisted that we take pride in our machines and keep them AND
the work place clean, as well. One of his pet peeves was tidiness! We
would shut down every day, 15 minutes before the whistle blew, just to
sweep and straighten up the shop. And when Pappy gave an order, he
expected you to follow it! That or risk his wrath! I can still see the
poor ‘new guys’ who we sent over to the shop, blissfully wandering in
and asking him for “the board stretcher”!!! Aaaaggh!! We’d send them
there knowing how badly the ‘old man’ hated stupidity. But he was a
real card. And a good and decent soul to boot.
He took a real shine to me and got me off the clean-up crew and onto
the saw line. That was hard for him to pull off because I'd only
worked there a year and had had already cut the side of my thumb off
with a utility knife, slit the palm of my hand open with banding
material and got busted in the mouth with a steel hook dangling from a
1/2" chain (all requiring professional medical attention).So needless
to say, the Yard Forman wasn't too keen on the issue. But Pappy
finally pulled 'er off. I got to run his precious little 10” DeWalt
saw! That was my first ‘real’ job, since sawyers got paid 25 cents per
hour more. He usually wouldn’t let another soul touch it. It was a
weak saw (compared to the others), but he'd never hear of that. He’d
stand over me and give me the proverbial grease!... “That’s it.. pull
her slow and easy. That's it. Follow that line. Nope.. you’re
drifting. No... your…..... WHY THE HELL CAN’T YOU YOUNG KIDS LISTEN!
God^%&@…………”. Well, you get the picture! But he did end up teaching me
a lot about carpentry in the end. He would tell me little carpenter’s
‘secrets’ all the time. Like how to fix a pecker track so the painter
would have an easier time, and things like that. How and where and WHY
to "make your mark". I'll bet I heard that a thousand times. And
that's why nobody has to remind me of it today.
Pappy also liked to eat! About three times per week we’d head over to
the diner across the street to eat lunch. He loved to sit next to me
at the counter and spiel off what I needed to try and if I had ever
had it. A word of warning: Never tell Walter that you didn’t like
something if you never had tried it. He would soon come to know this
(his very next question). And then he’d be REALLY ****ed! LOL…!!! Like
with the buttermilk issue. He used to order a glass every day. So
finally he asked me if I like it. I said ‘No’. He asked me if I had
ever tried it (how he knew to ask these questions, I still cannot be
sure). I was truthful and again answered 'No'. He then proceeded to
flip his lid! After a minute or two and he had calmed down, he told
me: “Look… Order a glass. Try it. If you don’t like it I will drink
the rest and pay you for it”. I tried it. I LOVED it. I have been
drinking buttermilk ever since.
There are a million other stories of his wisdom that I could tell.
But I will leave you with this last one: After I married my 1st wife,
he would often tell me… “Hey… you know the glass cases inside
convenient stores that hold all of those nice little trinkets ? Stop
by on your way home and pick out something for your wife. It doesn’t
have to be very expensive. Just something to let her know you’re
thinking of her." And then he'd give me a smile and a sly wink and
say... "Women love little things”! He told me that on many occasions.
Sorrowfully, I must confess that I never listened. And later…. Well,
what befell me later just went to further proved the old man’s
wisdom!


I love that old man.