After the Army, Everett became an steel worker who specialized in bridge construction. He liked dangling from a nylon rope hundreds of feet from the ground below. He joked that his job was riveting, but he never joked about the paycheck. Sometimes he made more in a month than his father had made in a year, at least until the power company paid his father for his land so they could flood his hollow and make a cooling pond.
When the kids came along, Everett started driving a rig, a profession his wife deemed safer. “At least you’ll have some metal around you,” she had said. But two years later, when that Caprice pulled out in front of him, he had wished he had just a little less metal around him, and so he returned to the trade to once again dangle from the naked steel girders of unfinished bridges.
Photo credit: highwaysagency