When we lived in Chicago on Monitor Street, I acquired an account sanding floors in Addison. Gene Nettleton recommended me to the builder. He told me he was sure I would get the contract. The builder was Riley Management. They were new apartment buildings. Some buildings were fourteen apartments, A few were eighteen apartments in a building and also there were twenty apartments in other building. I took Grant with me a few days when I only had one apartment to sand. It usually only took me about two hours to finish one apartment.
I arranged it so we would have lunch with the painters
They were a colorful crew. Don a pervert, an old man who was always drunk by eight in the morning,
A black man who was usually quiet. The crew was part of Melrose Park Decorating Company. Melrose Park Decorating
, Melrose Park Plumbing, Melrose Park Electric, Melrose Park drywall, Melrose Park
Carpentryand Melrose Park Bricklayers all belonged to, GUESS WHO?
It was good experience for Grant to meet these people, even at five or six years old. Soon after
that, Scott was able to meet them also.
One day the coffee truck was pulling into the project and a long, four door black Cadillac pulled in front of the coffee truck.
Four or five men jumped out of the car, and had a discussion with the driver or the coffee truck.
The coffee truck turned around and never returned. A new coffee truck drove in and it was from Melrose
Park.
While I was working on this project, I had sealed a few apartment floors, and the plumbers arrived on the job. I told them not to walk on the floors. One guy wouldn't listen and walked across one floor that I already sealed. We got into a huge argument and before long, the carpenters, bricklayers, painters, plumbers and laborers from Melrose Park were all standing close trying to see what would happen? The plumber had a large wrench in his hand so I grabbed two hammers, one for each hand. I knew now if a fight broke out, I was going to the hospital and I figured I would take a couple of guys with me. Was I scared? You bet I was, but I couldn't back out now I don't know how this situation didn't escalate but, I'm sure glad it didn't.
A half hour later, I was working in an apartment and
the worker that I had the argument with, Gus Palermo, said his uncle told him to take the crew on the
job and finish it. Gus told me if he didn't finish, his uncle would be real upset.
He said he would rather fight me than have to face his uncle.
Unfortunately for me, A few years later, Riley went bankrupt owing me for six buildings.
Another interesting story here. There was a superintendent who was trying to get his friends the sanding contract for this project. One day I arrived on site to see another sanders truck on site. At the time a boy named Jim was working for me. He was a great worker, but sometimes trouble followed him. He was a nephew of Al Capone and naturally hated police or anyone affiliated with law. Anyway, I told him to wait in the truck while I settle this problem.
After an hour of discussions,
I climb back into my truck and Jim asks, "Did we lose this
contract Ralph?" I tell him no and I begin to back out of the project when I see in the back of my truck
the sanding tools from the other sanders truck. Jim stole all their tools and put them in my truck.
I stopped the truck, and we replaced their tools. He was a faithful employee, sometimes too faithful.
These short paragraphs include a few days my sons will remember They might remember a few of these days when they came to to work with me
Fred always started his day in the basement apartment in the building where he lived on Sheridan Road and Irving Park. His crew of six to ten workers all met here, and Fred would assign everyone to their specific job for that day. There is or was a barber chair in the room and the first worker that arrived here always sat there. Everyone else had to stand By seven thirty everyone would be on their way and Fred would show me the floors to be sanded Now, I sanded quite a few floors for Fred Mathews, and his floors were absolutely the worst floors that I ever sanded.
Many of these days we all had lunch together. I usually sat on the freshly sanded floor and most
everyone else sat on a box or a can that was in the apartment. One day as we were eating lunch
and talking, one of his helpers by the name of Russell, was being annoying so Fred picked up a
hammer and threw it at him. He didn't throw it gingerly either. It hit the boy and Fred told him
he would throw another if he didn't shut up. Russell always annoyed Fred. (Remember?)
Jim Burns was a pleasure to work for. His previous job was an electrician. Whenever I worked alone
and the job was on the third floor, he always offered to have his laborers help me carry my equipment up.
Lunch with his crew was enjoyable. His crew was mostly Cubans who spoke very little English. They always
talked with my sons whenever they were with me. They thought it was great that the boys came with
me and enjoyed being on a jobsite. Jim also enjoyed talking with the boys, often kidding them.
These lunch breaks and the coffee breaks were a lot of fun for me and whoever was with me that day.
During these early years, Rudy Garcia worked with me from time to time. Rudy was hired by my brother
when Hank, Rich and I were partners. Rudy spoke no English and, Rich and Hank didn’t like to work
with him. When I had my own company I used Rudy whenever Rich didn't have work for him. One rainy day,
while he was connecting our cables, I lowered a cable to him that he was going to connect to the one coming
from the fuse box. As he connected the two he got shocked and I had to pull the cable out of his hands.
Apparently, one strand of wire was touching one of the metal connectors and when he connected them together
and standing in the rain, he got zapped.
It was a long day. We finished a job north of Belmont and drove to another apartment on Clark Street just north of Devon. The apartment we were sanding was on the second floor. It didn’t look like the floor was very bad; however it was a three bedroom living room and dining room, so it was fairly large. We were finished with the rough cut and were beginning to do the finish cut when I saw some commotion in one of the rooms. Now you must realize, whenever Jim and Tom worked together there was always some fooling around. Jim came into the room that I was working and said, “Look what Tom did,” I turned off the super-8 and looked out the window and there on the ground was paint splattered everywhere. Someone knocked a gallon of paint off the window sill and it fell down two stories.
I ran downstairs and found that the paint had covered a new beautiful car. I knew we are responsible for the car so I ask the owner if we can take it to a car wash and clean it. I really didn’t know what to do. The owner of the car called the police and while we were waiting for the police to arrive, I ran to a gas station down the street where they also washed cars. I explained what had happened and asked if they could wash it. He said no, but if we washed it with gas and got the paint off, he would run it through the car wash two times to remove the gas.
I ran back to the apartment and the police were there. I explained that it was an accident, and told him what the gas station attendant said. I was bluffing at this time. I asked him to write this in his report, that the car could be cleaned if I took it directly to the gas station and cleaned it. But, the service man said it had to be done soon otherwise the paint would dry and we wouldn’t be able to clean it. The owner of the car became worried that I wouldn’t be liable for damages now that this information was in the police report, so they drove the car to the gas station where we proceeded to wash it with gas. The three of us used rags and gas to clean the paint and it worked. All the paint was off except for some residue. Then we put the car through the car wash twice and it was perfect. The owners of the car climbed into the car and started it and drove away.
I was worried that when
they started the car it would explode, but it didn’t. Now I was mad. We are two or three hours
behind schedule. I tell both boys that we are staying here to finish the job, even if we are here
until midnight, and if either leave they are fired. We finally put the final coat of varnish on
the floor, and load the truck about ten thirty in the evening.
To this day Jimmy says Tom knocked the paint off the window, and Tom says Jimmy knocked it out
the window... I will go to my grave not knowing who the guilty party was.
About Tom, there are a million stories I could tell, but here is a good one. Whenever Tom’s car was broke he would meet me at Montrose and Central at seven in the morning. This day I had a couple apartment floors to sand, and I pulled my truck over to the side on Montrose Ave. to wait for Tom. By seven twenty I knew Tom wasn’t going to show, so I drove to his apartment. I rang the bell and Mrs. Andrews answered. I told her who I was and she pressed the door buzzer to let me in... I walked up to the second floor where their apartment was, she let me in. she told me,” poor Tom was out late last night. He is so tired.”
I asked where his bedroom
was, when she showed me I walked in and hollered, “Tom you get your lazy ass out of bed. I lined
up work for the two of us and I’m not doing it alone this time. Get your ass out of bed and
get dressed, and fast.” He did get up and we were soon on the road, heading to work, late again.
I was living in Norridge at this time, and I drove to American Lincoln to buy a few parts I needed for my machines. The manager, Bill, always worked Saturdays and he opened the door for me. He found my parts and we talked for a few minutes. During that time, his secretary was sitting at her desk, typing what looked like important letters. He said he was leaving when I leave because he was taking his wife shopping. I left and he also was leaving the building.
Weeks later I found out that Bill did take his wife to Sears and she asked him to pick her up in two hours. Two hours passed and Bill was late. She waited another hour and Bill still didn’t show up. She called the office. Home and finally called a friend to pick he up at the store. When she got home and entered the house it was empty. I mean empty; all the furniture was gone, and Bill was gone. Naturally she was shocked. What could have happened to Bill and their furniture? She called the office again, with no success.
Finally
she called the police. They found that Bill had used a credit card to rent a u-haul. The police
told her his final destination was a small town in Tennessee.
It seems that Bill and his secretary, who he was having an affair with during all these
Saturdays, decided to move and live together. He figured his wife would never find them in Tennessee,
but it only took her three or four day. That is all I know about this, Pretty good, huh?
1. Some days we would go to Sears to do a little shopping if a job cancilled; especially at Christmas.
2. How freezing cold the edger was on a winter morning and how hot the handles were on a ninety degree day.
3. You should remember how strong the lacquer smelled. It didn’t matter if the temperature was hot or cold.
4. I remember the terrible smell of the cockroach poison. It didn’t matter if it was the liquid that was used or the powder that flew into our faces when we hit it with the edger.
5. I remember when Grant was learning to drive a car. I had him drive from our first job to the second which was near Addison Street and Sheffield Avenue. He drove south on the narrow Sheffield Street, which is still a challenge for me because it is so narrow. At one point, I said, “Grant you just drove through the last three stop signs.” He was so focused on driving down that narrow street that he didn’t even see the stop signs.
6. Many days when we passed Lincoln Park zoo, we would park the truck and walk to the park and have our lunch. We would sit in the grass and just enjoy the half hour. Then we would continue our drive to the next job.
7. And how many morning we stopped at six thirty in the morning at the donut shop for coffee and donuts. Then we would carry the tools into an apartment. I would find a small chore for them, but most of their day they spent walking down the alleys in Chicago looking through the garbage for treasures. When we drove home I would see different items in the truck that they found. They loved walking through the streets and alleys of Chicago.
8. My Ford van had a heater that was, to say the least, insufficient to heat the van on a cold winter morning. I usually wore my winter suit with a sweater and a jacket over it, and I was still chilly. My sons always dressed warm and still covered themselves with a blanket while driving into the city. We were always glad to see the weather change when spring arrived.
9. There were many days when I drove into the city for work, only to find out the job wasn’t ready or there was confusion over the start date. Sometimes that was depressing and other times it was a nice feeling knowing I had the day off. (How about it?)
10. A few days when a job canceled I would find a bait shop and buy a cane pole and some minnows and try my luck at Belmont harbor. Other days I might drive to Evanston to visit my friend Nick Adams or Joe and Pearl.
12. It was six thirty one morning as we were driving north on Clark Street, and we came to a stop at Lawrence Ave... I believe Russ and Kurt were with me this day. As we were waiting for the light to change, a taxi crashed into the rear of our truck. Both boys in the van ended up on the floor. We waited for the police, and filled out reports which consumed two or three hours, seeing that it was the rush hour in Chicago. After that we drove to Nick and Arlene’s house and visited with them for an hour or so. Nick is always enjoyable to visit with. Then we drove home where there is always plenty work to be attended to.
13. While we were sanding there would be a loud explosion, that’s what it sounded like. It was only the number four paper exploding off the super eight machine, but it made so much noise it startled you, and it made a mess all over the floor.
14. Driving on Clark Street to a job site and passing Wrigley Field was always a trip. It took forever to get past the park, and being a person who isn’t a baseball fan, I would always get mad. I remember one summer day driving passed a traffic cop at the corner of Clark and Addison, and saying to him, “why the hell don’t these people get a job instead of watching a silly baseball game?” I don’t think he appreciated that. By the way, that is when the Cubs were not very popular and you could show up at the park any day and buy a ticket. A ticket for good seats too.
15. From time to time I would see Nick working at the same building where I was. I always stopped after my rough cut and had coffee with him. If any of my sons were with me they would be happy. They knew Nick and they also knew they would have a nice break.
16. It was seven in the morning and Grant, Rudy Garcia and I already had our coffee and donut and our machines were ready to start sanding. I felt good; we could get an early start and possibly get home early today. We turned the machines on and were about a half hour into sanding when the police entered the apartment. The officer signaled us to stop and we did. He says, “Boys there is an ordinance here in Evanston. You can’t start working with noisy equipment until after nine in the morning.” I couldn’t believe it, but that is the way it is in Evanston. We left the machines off and took an hour and a half break until nine and, then turned the machines on exactly at nine.
17. Sometimes when we worked in a building on Surf street we would stop at Joe and Pearl Limbacher’s apartment for coffee. They were good friends of Nick, and Joe is the janitor of this building. Joe was a character from the old country, Germany. He believed nothing could go to waste. The janitor collected trash from everyone’s back door and burned it in the incinerator. He saved boxes of trash when people moved out of their apartments, and whenever Nick came here he left the boxes for us to go through. He always believed we would find some items to use, and we did sometimes. But, almost all of the items were junk and sometimes we even hated to touch some of the things. When Nick came here at night he left the boxes on the back porch, outside. Usually, the following day the kids would go through everything. Many times they found toys and gadgets to play with. It was almost Christmas when Nick was here.
I was sanding a floor at Crawford and Irving. First thing in the morning I hooked my cable to the fuse box. It was a long distance from the apartment where I was working. I hung cables above stairway where possible and at one basement stair there was no way to secure the cable, so I lay in on the ground. I was careful to make sure it wasn’t kinked and it lay tightly where the riser meets the stair. I have done this many times before and never had a problem. A few hours later I heard a commotion outside and didn’t pay attention to it. Later the janitor of the building came to our apartment and told me a lady tripped on my cable and broke her leg.
I was nervous so I immediately called my insurance broker, Tom Snow, who told me to talk to no
one. I finished the job shortly after that and drove to Tom Snow’s home and talked to him. He
told me not to worry, that I have good insurance. Weeks later, I am sanding at the same building
and the janitor tells me that the lady broke her leg, a foot, a couple of toes and had
contusions on her head. She was a very old lady and was carrying a clothes basket to the laundry room
in the basement. She only fell down one stairs and did all that damage. I found out later her
lawyer was suing for over a million dollars. Thank God I had good insurance.
1. The first story is short and kind of funny. It was a hot summer morning . I decided to start work early while it is still cool outside. I stop at a coffe shop for coffee and a donut and, take them with me. The apartment where I am going to work is at Dakin and Sheridan Road in Chicago. I arrived at the third floor apartment about six in the morning and by seven my cables are connected, paper is tightly arranged on my drum, I have swept the apartment and had my coffee. I opened all the windows and plug in the fans, one blowing in from the south room and one blowing out in the north room, and I begin sanding.
About fifteen minutes later I hear someone
yelling. I can see a man in his shorts across from me in the next apartment building, but
I can’t hear what he is saying. I turn off the machine and go to the window and I can see
the man has a gun in his hand. He hollers at me, “Turn that God Damn noisy machine off or I’ll
shoot you. I work nights and I’m trying to get some sleep.” Ordinarily I would argue with
someone complaining about the noise, but this time I left the machine off and I went across the
alley to Wally’s Paint store and visited with him for an hour of so. Later in the day I returned
to finish the floor. This is not the neighborhood to underestimate peoples intentions.
2. This is the same neighborhood, and a building only two buildings east of the one above. It was across the alley from Wally’s Paint store. I was sanding at the apartment and had sealed the floor. My helper that day was Terry Chacopis. Terry and I were loading tools in the van, and a car with four guys who had been drinking all day stopped and hollered, “Get that truck out of our way.” Terry was half way up to the second floor and he yelled something to these men and they all got out of their car.
I unfortunately, was almost at the alley and had
to confront these drunks. One pulled a knife and the others were around me and I had to do some
fast talking to get out of this predicament. The four men got back into the truck and left,
and when I got upstairs with Terry I told him,”The next time you get tough with someone in this
neighborhood I’ll let them kick your ass. I almost got killed because you yelled at these guys.
“I think Terry got the message.
3. I don’t remember the year or the day but, another day I was working in the same block. I was
unloading my equipment at six thirty in the morning when a drunk walked up to me and began to argue and cuss at me.
I don’t know why. All I can say is he was drunk and could hardly walk, and looking for
trouble. I kind of ignored him and it wasn’t long before he wandered down the alley.
This happens from time to time and I’m kind of used to it.
I was working a block east of Broadway and on a street between Montrose and Wilson. Kurt was with me and, I believe it was Grant and Scott that were helping me this day also. It was summer and a hot day. Everyone on the block was outside on their porches. I had finished my first cut and was almost finished with my second and it was lunch time. I gave Kurt lunch money and told him to walk to McDonalds on Broadway, and get us lunch. He left and Gant, Scott and I worked for a while longer, then I told Scott, “Let’s sit outside on the porch and wait for Kurt. It’s a pretty bad area. I don’t want him to get in trouble.”
We were sitting on the porch and we could see a group of older kids playing on
the street. Kurt was wearing boots that were three sizes bigger
than they should be. He was dirty and wearing a dirty t-shirt and pants, and was carrying a large
McDonald lunch bag. As Kurt was walking passed them, We saw
Kurt says something, and swing the bag at one of the boys, and he kept walking to us. While we
were eating Kurt says, “You know what, those jerks said they want the bag of food. I told them
get the hell out of here; you’re not getting my lunch." There was no way they were
going to take this from me. I'm hungry
No wonder I had a heart attack when I was so young. Remember the lunches? The hamburgers and french fries? I would send one of my sons to buy our lunch. When he returned we would sit on the rough sanded floor or if the weather was nice, we would sit outside on the porch stairs. The bottom of the lunch bag would be wet with grease, but the lunch was great, especially the heavily salted and greasy fries.
About thirty years ago Nick was painting a house for an old Jewish lady. She told Nick her daughters were sending her to a nursing home. Her husband was deceased and she asked Nick if he knew anyone who would remove the junk from her attic. Nick called me and told me that she might have some old radio or electronic parts, seeing that her husband worked with electronics. I told him I would, and after work on one afternoon I met Nick at her house. I checked the attic and saw a few items that were nice. I told the lady I would clean out her attic. I would load my truck today and return tomorrow to finish removing items. Kurt was working with me that day and when we got home we deposited ninety five percent of the items right into the garbage. I wondered if I should return the next day and decided I would.
The next day we cleaned her attic and I did get a nice antique recorder. Before we left I asked if I could pay her and she said no, but I refused to leave without paying her for the recorder. She actually wanted to pay me for cleaning out the attic. Anyway, we returned home and deposited the entire van into the trash except for the recorder and two or three small electronic items that had very little value.
Two days later Rosemary got a call from the Evanston police. They said the daughters of this lady filed a report on me for stealing items from the old lady’s home. I went to the police dept the same day and got into a heated argument with the investigators, however when I told them I actually paid the lady money for this junk they eased up on me. The next day I brought a picture of all the junk piled in my driveway and a picture of the few items that I kept, the action was dropped.
In the
meantime Rosemary called Ed Nolan and asked if he knew the police in Evanston. He did and called
them to see what was happening. They were real mad at me and asked him what kind of cousin he has
that argues and screams at the police. But that is a story of me almost getting arrested for
bilking an old lady.
I have just finished sanding a floor in Evanston. It is late in the evening and it is dark. This was about forty eight years ago, and I was driving an old blue panel truck; one that I paid fifty dollars for. It was a real Junker, but it carried me and my sanding equipment to and from work. That is all I expected from this beater. As I was driving south on Chicago Ave. in Evanston, which is Clarke Street in Chicago, my headlights turned off. I was worried because I had a long way until I would get home. While I was pushing and pulling on the headlight switch, I hit a bump in the road and the lights came back on. However, the next bump I hit they turned off again. So, I decided to drive the old truck over a curb to see if it would come on again, which it did. A little later it went out again and I repeated the process, driving up the curb.
The lights came
on again; only this time so did the lights from a police car. I stopped and they had me get out
of the truck, and asked what I had been drinking. I explained the situation, but when I got out of
the truck, a bottle of half filled wine fell out also. “What is that, and were you drinking this
while driving?” One of the police asked. I said,” No officer I wasn’t drinking. I’m driving home
from a job. The wine is in the back seat because when my brother and I go smelt fishing we drink it
at the lake. I just never took it out of the truck.” They checked me and told me they believed
me but, I can’t drive the truck without lights, and I can’t keep driving over curbs. I pulled the
truck over to the side, and a half hour later found a broken wire. I fixed it, and was on my way
home for dinner and sleep after a long day.
Well I will tell you what happened to it. It was a very cold, nasty, snowy winter day and I was headed to a sanding job in Lake Zurich. Now this trucks floor was all rusted out. So I had newspapers covering it for a little insulation, which didn't really help. Also the heater quit working when we got near Lake Zurich. My helper and I decided to stop at a restaurant to get warm and have a cup of coffee. During that time the weather became worse. The temperature was dropping and the snow was getting heavier so I decided to turn around and head for home. We were on I-90 and the truck was overheating a little. I checked the water and it was full but hot. I checked the oil and it was empty. We were about a 5 miles from the toll gate and about another 2 miles from there to home. I had planned to scrap this old truck before, and I thought this is the time to do it.
I needed oil to get home, it is below zero weather, the snow is getting heavy, I'm going to junk the truck, I am stuck on the highway, I have no oil, BUT I have five gallons of varnish. Yes, I did, I poured three gallons into the truck and we started the truck and drove a few miles. I stopped and checked the dipstick and it was very low already so I poured the rest of the oil in the crankcase. We continued driving and the engine threw a rod about a half of a city block from the toll gate. I called Rosemary and asked her to bring the car, and also the title for the truck. She did, and we transfered all the sanding tools into the car. Then I left the truck, with the title and empty varnish can, parked on the shoulder of the highway. My helper and I got in the car with Rose, and she drove us to our nice, warm and cozy home. That is what happened to that nice, old, junk truck.
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