Clay Brown
Eighteen-year-old Glade Elliott stands among a group of men,
gazing up at a daunting sight, a narrow pole, planted in the
ground shooting straight up into the sky. The gruff
superintendent in charge holds up a set of "climbers" and a belt.
"Who's first?" he asks. After watching several men awkwardly
attempt to climb the pole and struggle to get back down, Glade
accepts the challenge. With youthful agility and swiftness, he
gallops up to the top of the pole and carefully climbs back down.
Little does Glade realize that this skillful display will change the
course of his young life.
Clay Brown graduated in nineteen fifty-three. After a year of
college, he had to look for work, and by coincidence, found it at
an electric utility. He began on a construction crew. He also
enrolled in night classes at the local community college to study
engineering.
Later, he joined another utility as an engineer, advancing to
District Engineer, then moved back to construction as an
Assistant Superintendent. He held titles of District Line
Superintendent, Division Line Superintendent, Division
Operations Manager, retiring as Area Operations Manager.
During his years, he served on many committees. The Public
Safety Committee, the Washington State Code Committee, sub-committees for the National Electrical Safety Code, on labor
negotiations committees, and as chairman of Joint
Apprenticeship Training Committees.
1
Tryouts
Emil Groenig was the Superintendent, but most just referred to
him as "Super." One Monday morning, Super came into the
gathering room and made an announcement. "Today we're
having tryouts," his gruff voice rose above the din. "All you
helpers can try out if you want. Mecham lost his lineman and
whoever can climb a pole best will get a new job." Super then
held up a lineman's climbers and belt and said, "Let's go out
back."
The Irrigation District had an electric power line that wandered
around the county serving the motorized head gates in the canals,
as well as the ditchriders' homes, and it snaked up the canyon to
the dam. Glade Elliott knew nothing about it, but the line was a
twenty-four hundred-volt, three-phase delta system constructed
some twenty years earlier when the Irrigation District was new.
In the equipment yard were six poles with lights, standing about
thirty feet out of the ground with wires strung between them.
"Who's first?" Super blared out.
Mike Rawlings looked up at the poles. "What am I supposed to
do?" he inquired.
"Just put these tools on and climb this pole." Super instructed.
"Whoever does the best gets the job. Simple as that."
Then Mike asked what all the men really wanted to know.
"What does this lineman job pay?"
"Buck fifty, and travel on the clock," Super answered.
Wow. Helpers only got seventy-five cents and travel one way on
the clock. That was more than double. That made it interesting.
Mike jumped in first, but had difficulty figuring how to put the
climbers on. He put them on backward with the spikes on the
outside of his feet. Finally, he got them on just right and bellied
up to the pole. The young man put the strap around the pole and
adjusted it in, not wishing to be very far from the pole. Mike
jabbed a spike into the wood and stood on that climber. Jabbing
in the other just a little higher, he tried to hitch the belt up. Just
one foot off the ground his spikes cut out, and the next thing he
knew, Mike was picking splinters from his arms.
"Next!" Super bellowed.
There were seventeen helpers in all, but six decided not to try.
Eldon Moench did pretty well, leaning back from the pole and
climbing cautiously upward. Not bad. When he reached the
light fixture Super told him "Okay, come on down." That was it
for Eldon. He couldn't figure how to get down. They had to get
a tractor with a lift and go get him.
Glade Elliott watched everything intently. When the ninth
helper had finished his try, Glade stepped forward. "I'll give it a
shot if that's okay"
Super nodded and Glade strapped on the climbers. Having
watched the others before him, he had no difficulty getting them
on right. When he put on the belt, he let the strap out. Glade
could see that the climber needed to keep his body and hips back
a little bit so the spurs went in at an angle toward the center of
the pole. Stabbing the spurs in Glade leaned back and walked
cautiously, but rapidly, upward. Once he reached the light
fixture, he asked Super, "Anything you want done up here?
"You want us to get the tractor?" Super asked.
Glade ignored the remark, commencing a steady descent,
walking down the pole and unbuckling the safety strap at the
bottom
"Who's next?" Super asked.
No one answered. They just turned and walked back inside.
Mecham, the ancient Line Foreman, approached Glade. "You'll
do just fine son. I watched you size up the job, let others make
mistakes and learn from them, then move in with caution and
confidence. That's what you'll need. This work's dangerous.
One mistake and you're fried. A miss-step and you fall. Just
keep your head screwed on straight and learn."
"Thanks," Glade replied. "Guess you know I've got it all to
learn. You've seen everything I've got to show." Glade felt his
life had just taken an interesting turn. A new era had just
commenced that would lead him to an exciting life.
Work at the Irrigation District, or the "ID" as the men called it,
started early as crews left the yard by seven in order to get to the
machines by eight. Men had begun showing up just after six.
Workers traveled one way on their time and the other on the
ID's. A typical day found the oiler gassing the pickup, filling the
diesel drum, loading grease, checking oil and water, filling the
canvas water bags and getting ready to travel by seven. The
operator would make a final check and off they'd go, heading for
the location where they'd left the dragline the day before,
sometimes as far as twenty or thirty miles from the yard.
