Memories of
Mattoon
A Roofing
Party
Not all of my memories of
Mattoon are “ancient” ones. This recent memory reminds me of
my childhood and times spent on my Granddad Newman’s farm or
Uncle Wayne’s dairy farm.
Whether it was a “barn raising”
as the Amish would call it or harvest time, the farmers would
work together. While the men toiled at their labors the women
would toil in the kitchen preparing a light lunch they would
take out to the men and then a large meal for suppertime. They
would move from farm to farm during harvest time until all
fields had been harvested.
It was all about teamwork and
friends. That tradition continues in Mattoon and the
surrounding neighborhoods. At least among a group of men and
women who are all friends and are all affiliated with and
active in the VFW, American Legion or Patriots.
When I bought my place at Lake Paradise a few years ago it
needed some plumbing work and a new roof. For the plumbing I
contacted someone who specialized in septic tank systems and
lived near Magnet Hill and not far from my cottage.
I am not going to go into
detail but the man not only said he didn’t think he had fully
corrected the problem but billed me on the spot. I phoned him
less than two days later and told him there was still a
problem. He said he couldn’t get back to me for at least four
days. When I said I couldn’t wait that long and asked for a
refund he hung up on me.
A good friend of mine, Lee
Oakley, was temporarily living at my place. He suggested I
talk to Bud, owner of Bud’s Plumbing who I’d met at the Legion
but didn’t know very well.
I did and the next morning Bud
sent out two men who fixed the problem and said Bud would send
me a bill which he never did. Every time I saw Bud at the
Legion I would buy him a Bud Light and mention the bill. He
always said he sometimes forgot to and after awhile seemed to
get irritated with me whenever I mentioned it to him.
When I told Lee this he told me
to just drop a case of beer off at Bud’s office and he’d be
satisfied. I’d lived in California for so long that I’d
forgotten this was the way things were often done “back home.”
When it came time to re-shingle
the roof I had no doubt in my mind that I was going to talk to
Bob Mathias, another very long-time friend who’d been in the
roofing business for as long as I could remember.
He said it would be no problem
and he could get the materials at cost and a group of guys
together to help. He said the food would be covered but I had
to buy the beer. He also said he was getting too old and
beat-up to be doing this kind of work and it would be the last
roof he’d help re-do.
Early one Saturday morning
found Bob, “Oak”, Bill Highland, Don Torbeck, “Herc” and Steve
Ferrier up on my roof. I hope I didn’t misspell any names!
Bob’s wife Rita brought out mashed potatoes and beef and
noodles to feed the “troops.” Don’s girlfriend, Karen, brought
out bar-b-qued pork and buns for sandwiches. “Tree” was
assigned to hand up materials when needed and a cold beer on
occasion though most of the beer drinking would be at the end
of the day.
“Tree” has his nickname for a
reason and didn’t need a ladder to hand the guys on the roof
whatever they needed.
Everyone was back out early
Sunday morning and by afternoon the job was finished. What
leftovers there was were also finished and a good dent was put
in the beer I had bought.
I would like to add, not
everyone drank beer and the ones who did, drank responsibly
and there were designated drivers. In fact, very little beer
was consumed while the guys were working on the roof but water
instead to stay hydrated.
All total the roof cost me
about $1100 in quality materials, (thanks Bob!) some soft
drinks and fourteen cases of beer. The girls wouldn’t let me
reimburse them for the food.
I thank all for bringing me
back to my “roots”, a great job and a fun weekend.
