Garbage truck days

When I was young, my Dad was a garbage man in downtown Chicago. It was not a glamorous job by any means. Since there was so much traffic headed into the city, my Dad left our home at 4:30 a.m., so he could get an early start. Then he was always back home by 3:30 p.m. and he took a nap. He had other jobs when he was first married and out of the army. But then he got into the garbage business, and eventually owned his own garbage business.

My dad was and always has been a good businessman. He has sooo many stories about being on the garbage truck. When he first began his business, it was with his youngest brother. There were lots of stories about them being together. My uncle had been in the military too. My uncle was a really good shot with a baseball. One time he threw a snowball at a moving train, and it hit into the middle of an O in a word, just like he wanted to. My dad was amazed! Another time they found a bowling ball, and my uncle dribbled it down an alley and into a basketball hoop!🤣 They said it was REALLY loud!

Another time, they had stopped and gotten shakes at a fast food joint. My uncle, who had a beard during the winter, was drinking it at a stoplight. Of course, my Dad let off of the brake pedal (or popped the clutch), and my uncle spilled it all over his beard!

They dealt with a LOT of rats in the trash containers. My dad and his brother found baseball bats and would hit the rats when they came out of the trash after they opened the lid of the container. They have so many stories of stuff they did to control the rat population during their time as garbage men.

After a few years, they were able to buy another garbage truck. They picked up more customers and my uncle had his own route. Even though they had separate routes, they began together each morning and saw each other usually when their routes were done. When they were driving alone, they listened to the radio a lot. They talked to their customers, and bought things from them, like cherries or ice cream. My dad even took a Spanish class so he could learn to speak to some of his customers. My uncle came over to our house once a month and they did their customer billing together. I loved seeing my uncle. He always called me things like "sweetie" and "honey." I miss him.

On school holidays and occasional summer days, my Dad would let us (my brothers or me, one at a time) come and ride with him and "help" for the day on his truck. We liked it. It was nice to spend the day with my Dad. I never helped my uncle on his route, but my older brothers did. There were a few unsavory places that I won't mention, but they were just plain GROSS. Dad knew it was gross and had had several helpers puke at certain stops. He always gave us the option to stay in the truck, and sometimes I did.

He always wore work gloves to protect his hands. When I worked with him, I was probably 7 until age 11. He only had one size of work gloves, which of course was his size. Needless to say, they were very big on my little girl's hands. So most of the day I would keep my hands up so the gloves wouldn't fall off. Several of his customers thought I was so cute and gave me free bags of cherries or free ice cream. My Dad was disappointed because he always had to pay for those things! He paid me $5.00 a day to help him.

When I was about 10, my Dad bought a new garbage truck and had it painted blue. He had his friends paint phrases on it, which we thought were funny. One said "purveyors of used foods and exotic salads." EW! He always had Mack trucks, and I remember the bulldog on the front of his new truck being so shiny! The Mack truck always makes me think of the first "Cars" animated movie when Lightning McQueen's tuck that drives him is a Mack truck (not a Peterbilt!)

We moved away from Chicago when I was almost 12. My Dad sold his garbage business and had another very successful business and jobs. But I'll never forget his stories or the days that I worked with him on the garbage truck.
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Isaiah 64:8
Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the
potter; we are all the work of your hand.

John 5:16-18
So, because Jesus was doing these things on the Sabbath, the Jewish leaders began to persecute him. In his defense, Jesus said to them, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I too am working.” For this reason, they tried all the more to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.

John 8:42
Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me.