More than 250,000 people here in Northeast Ohio still have no power after Tuesday’s storms that toppled trees and power lines, and more than 300 utility poles.
The story of where your dad worked was one of the first articles of yours I cut out and saved from Parade, because I connected so deeply with it. When you came to Toledo years ago you were gracious enough to sign that article I cut out so many years ago, and now that article is framed on a wall in my house.
My dad has always worked manual labor jobs. For many years he worked in a factory tempering wire. It was not unusual for him to work 12 or 16 hour days in that hot factory to provide for us, and he often came home with gashes on his arms or legs where a wire had broken and come flying off the line back toward him. His job was one where he always showered before coming home, and he brought his work clothes home in a plastic grocery bag which mom would wash separately from the rest of our clothes so as not to contaminate our clothing with the oil and chemicals on his. I never saw the inside of that factory, but I will never forget the sacrifices he made to provide for his family. He is less than a year away from a well-deserved retirement, and I can't wait for him to finally get a break.
My father worked for Ohio Edison and we had a Reddy-Kilowatt cookie cutter. Not sure we actually made cookies with it--but its a fun childhood memory. Thank you for another wonderful piece.
I got tears in my eyes reading about your Dad. It's clear that you have a great love for him and recognize the hard work he did for his family, and the community. My Papaw laid sewer pipe for a living. It's hard work, underground, often dangerous, and he was hurt on the job regularly. a few times he was hurt very badly, once nearly being crushed to death. It took ages to heal. And then he went right back under ground and started doing it again, just as soon as he could walk. There are a thousand thankless jobs being performed at any moment by people who are just trying to keep their own lights on while working to keep everyone else's on, too. It's a hard way to make a living. It takes a huge toll on the body. But it's one of the reasons I grew up knowing to thank everyone for the job they were doing. Solidarity forever. Especially with the folks doing the work of the unsung heroes.
My dad was a lineman for the Ohio Edison. He would take me out on the porch during a storm and tell me about the clouds, thunder and lightning while my mother was having a fit inside. He was so excited about being called out in a storm to restore and fix lines. During the snow storm in the 80’s he slept under his work desk in Mansfield waiting to go back out.
Thank you for this, Connie. My father was a steel worker in Weirton, WV, and I saw what a toll such hard work took on him. After years of working "turns" in the tin mill, we lost him to a heart attack when he was only 63. I am forever grateful for the sacrifices that allowed me to earn a journalism degree at WVU. Yours was a tribute that spoke to the love and gratitude that I have for my dad.
My father started out as a coal miner, both in Scotland and in the US. When the mines closed down, he worked many different jobs to keep a roof over their heads including working as a butler (I wasn't born yet). After the WWII, he went to work for the electric utility company on Long Island as a meter reader. I remember him having to go to work after a big storm. Eventually he was able to move into office work in customer service. I was the first in our extended family to graduate from college. Unfortunately, my father did not live to see it.
My father was a teacher and football coach at Ashtabula (Harbor?) High until 1961 or 2, I believe, Norbert Soltys. I’m wondering if you were there and might remember him? He’s about to turn 97 years old!
This portrait of your father and family actually made me cry. Thank you for thanking the workers. Growing up, I was embarrassed by my dad's cement-destroyed hands and the taunts of "Your father's a ditch digger" from other kids. Yet we were taught to honor workers (and unions!) and I do to this day. I salute the road crews, the power crews up all night to restore outages - Mom and Dad used to make them tea and cookies. In our Ivy League bedazzled world, I've learned to be proud of being working class. I loved hearing Harris and Walz salute workers and teachers. Thank you for painting such an amazing picture. Congratulations to your dad for raising you and your siblings. I know his spirit is proud of your brilliance and tribute.
The story of where your dad worked was one of the first articles of yours I cut out and saved from Parade, because I connected so deeply with it. When you came to Toledo years ago you were gracious enough to sign that article I cut out so many years ago, and now that article is framed on a wall in my house.
My dad has always worked manual labor jobs. For many years he worked in a factory tempering wire. It was not unusual for him to work 12 or 16 hour days in that hot factory to provide for us, and he often came home with gashes on his arms or legs where a wire had broken and come flying off the line back toward him. His job was one where he always showered before coming home, and he brought his work clothes home in a plastic grocery bag which mom would wash separately from the rest of our clothes so as not to contaminate our clothing with the oil and chemicals on his. I never saw the inside of that factory, but I will never forget the sacrifices he made to provide for his family. He is less than a year away from a well-deserved retirement, and I can't wait for him to finally get a break.
My father worked for Ohio Edison and we had a Reddy-Kilowatt cookie cutter. Not sure we actually made cookies with it--but its a fun childhood memory. Thank you for another wonderful piece.
I got tears in my eyes reading about your Dad. It's clear that you have a great love for him and recognize the hard work he did for his family, and the community. My Papaw laid sewer pipe for a living. It's hard work, underground, often dangerous, and he was hurt on the job regularly. a few times he was hurt very badly, once nearly being crushed to death. It took ages to heal. And then he went right back under ground and started doing it again, just as soon as he could walk. There are a thousand thankless jobs being performed at any moment by people who are just trying to keep their own lights on while working to keep everyone else's on, too. It's a hard way to make a living. It takes a huge toll on the body. But it's one of the reasons I grew up knowing to thank everyone for the job they were doing. Solidarity forever. Especially with the folks doing the work of the unsung heroes.
My dad was a lineman for the Ohio Edison. He would take me out on the porch during a storm and tell me about the clouds, thunder and lightning while my mother was having a fit inside. He was so excited about being called out in a storm to restore and fix lines. During the snow storm in the 80’s he slept under his work desk in Mansfield waiting to go back out.
This is a wonderful tribute, Connie. It makes me think of my dad — how hard he worked for us, and how little he complained.
Thank you for sharing those beautiful memories of your dad!!!
I remember that Newsweek cover! Iconic!
Thank you for this, Connie. My father was a steel worker in Weirton, WV, and I saw what a toll such hard work took on him. After years of working "turns" in the tin mill, we lost him to a heart attack when he was only 63. I am forever grateful for the sacrifices that allowed me to earn a journalism degree at WVU. Yours was a tribute that spoke to the love and gratitude that I have for my dad.
My father started out as a coal miner, both in Scotland and in the US. When the mines closed down, he worked many different jobs to keep a roof over their heads including working as a butler (I wasn't born yet). After the WWII, he went to work for the electric utility company on Long Island as a meter reader. I remember him having to go to work after a big storm. Eventually he was able to move into office work in customer service. I was the first in our extended family to graduate from college. Unfortunately, my father did not live to see it.
Being appreciative of the workers in our society is the first step to become more human. Thanks for writing this
My father was a teacher and football coach at Ashtabula (Harbor?) High until 1961 or 2, I believe, Norbert Soltys. I’m wondering if you were there and might remember him? He’s about to turn 97 years old!
Mary, I attended Harbor High’s rival, Ashtabula High. I graduated in 1975.
My father was a Peco guy in PA. Raised 8 of us and 2 followed in his footsteps. This story is so familiar 🥰. Thanks for sharing.
Wonderful,loving story about your dad. You never disappoint, dear one!
Thank you for this story and for the reminder about how some people work harder to make our life easier.
😢♥️💡
This portrait of your father and family actually made me cry. Thank you for thanking the workers. Growing up, I was embarrassed by my dad's cement-destroyed hands and the taunts of "Your father's a ditch digger" from other kids. Yet we were taught to honor workers (and unions!) and I do to this day. I salute the road crews, the power crews up all night to restore outages - Mom and Dad used to make them tea and cookies. In our Ivy League bedazzled world, I've learned to be proud of being working class. I loved hearing Harris and Walz salute workers and teachers. Thank you for painting such an amazing picture. Congratulations to your dad for raising you and your siblings. I know his spirit is proud of your brilliance and tribute.