This was an experience that still stands out in my mind as a very transformative experience that helped mold my work ethic and character as a Craftsman…
The welding and fabrication shop I started welding at in New York had one key business principle and I really believe made me successful as a welder in later years. My work ethic was shaped largely due to Mike Weagley and this principle. Mike would not turn away anything! Whatever it was, whatever your need, Mike Weagley (owner of Pro-Tech Welding and Fabrication) would find you a solution. And for this reason, if you could drag it into Mike’s shop, we could fix it. If you couldn’t, we would come to you! If you could conceive it, we could fabricate it. Nothing was too big or complex to intimidate him! Nothing was too small or insignificant to be considered beneath him! In the four years I worked for Mike Weagley at Pro-Tech Welding and Fabrication, we worked on about anything you could think of from fire escapes, decorative stairs and railings, furniture, (both new and antique) heavy equipment, restaurant kitchen equipment, car parts, lawn mowers, farm equipment, steel framed buildings, trailers, the list goes on. I actually welded on a couple of small art projects; metal sculpture type pieces.
One such experience still stands out in my mind and played a very important role in my development as a craftsman. A technician for a medical equipment supply company came into the shop one day with a wheelchair by his side. I watched this man visit with Mike for several minutes explaining his situation. I knew, given Mike’s characteristic thoughtful expression that this was a project in the early development stages. Next I knew, both Mike and Mr. Medical Tech were walking back to my area, looking right at me. Sure enough, both explained to me that my next job was going to be to raise the somewhat declined seat seven degrees higher. If I’m being perfectly honest, I was slightly less than enthused with this assignment. Alright, I was outright mad. All the other welders were busy doing “cool jobs”, jobs that mattered, as I viewed it at the time. A couple guys were welding heavy beams for a building project. One was building something for a truck bed. And here I was, fooling around with a wheelchair. Piddly aluminum wheelchair. Who could possibly care about this? Where would be any sense of pride or glory in this job? So, I went to work on it. “Lets get it over with” or something like that was my thought and approach. I began to cut the vertical supports out of the aluminum frame, gently so as not to damage other parts in the frame that would require repair thus extending a task I already had little appetite for. I cut delicately, methodically as there was not much room for tools on the inner portions of the frame. It was slow going and tedious and I hated every second of it. The vertical supports now removed, I set about the task of cutting new supports, just enough longer to raise the seat the specified seven degrees. It was slow and painstaking as the angles had to be precise and the supports coped to fit the round, tubular seat frame. After some careful measuring I fit the supports in to the frame and tacked them in solidly. I measured and remeasured so as to not have to perform this miserable task again. After asking the boss to check, I welded the parts in and brushed and buffed, as needed to give a presentable finish.
Early the next day, Mr. Medical Tech returns to the shop to pick up the chair. “Good!”, I thought. “Get this damned thing out of here and let me get back to some real work”, I thought. Today however, Mr. Medical Tech goes to the passenger side of his step van and opens a door and folds down a long ramp. A man in a wheelchair emerges, evidently the client and end user for the modification I had just performed. Mr. Medical Tech walks beside him as they both made their way to my workstation to view the modified wheelchair. Mr. Medical Tech helps the wheelchair bound client from the wheelchair he had arrived in to the wheelchair I had just modified. I watched, shocked as the biggest smile broke out on his face as his eyes welled up with tears. He test drove his newly elevated chair around the relatively open shop, with all the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning who had just received a new toy, moving in a big, arcing circle, doing a quick turn, and heading off the other direction. As I watched in some combination of amusement and bewilderment, Mr. Medical Tech leans in closer to me and explains, “he was in a car wreck which cost him the use of his legs and left him paralyzed for life from the neck down. He only has limited use of his arms. We needed the chair lifted seven degrees because when he eats, he is unable to sit up and lean forward and ends up spilling food on himself. This leaves him feeling embarrassed and guilty because someone else has to help him clean up. He wears a bib, but hates feeling like a child. Lifting this chair up will enable him to eat and not spill food all over himself. Thank you!”, he said as he extended his hand in thanks. The client then returned and followed suit, extending his hand as best he could, beaming in a big, enthusiastic smile all the while. You can imagine what I felt and how. To this very day, as I write this, I feel a tremendous mix of emotions. I sat down as I watched them leave, too shocked to move. I have heard this dynamic described as a paradigm shift. Maybe so. I felt a deep sense of embarrassment as I thought about my attitude on this job. I remember feeling resentful about being put on a job that “didn’t matter”, or so I thought. Little I knew how much that job really did matter. What I saw as a nuisance and a petty, insignificant job made all the difference in the world to the man I worked for. My work had given him a significantly improved sense of dignity and independence and made a huge difference in his life. It was a lesson I never forgot. Never again, not once did I ever treat a job with such a cavalier, dismissive attitude. If it mattered enough to the end user to pay for it, it mattered enough to me to do the best job I could on it. I have often been criticized by customers, employers and even fellow welders, many of them well intentioned, as being too fussy, as taking too much time on things and making projects too nice, or “too perfect”. There may be some validity to that charge, at least in some cases. That man in the wheelchair may be the reason why. You never know who that extra little bit of care and effort might matter to, or why.
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