I liked working there and I stayed there for 20 years until the factory shut down. I had many friends there, too many to mention here, but this post focuses on three. The rest are in my memory and I enjoyed working with them. They are Michele, Shirley, Sue, Sharon, my working buddies Steve Williams, Bill Taylor, the ultimate maintenance man Kelly Hampton, Dave Edwards, Audie Luna, Dale Murry and the list goes on beyond my present capabilities to remember at this moment. All of the people mentioned were dedicated to the company as were others not mentioned here. In my 20 years there were only a scant few who were not dedicated to our mission.
This remainder of this post focuses on just a few of the people that never got the recognition they deserved. John Alehandro, Steve Williams and Bob Dill.
John started his army life as a tunnel rat in Vietnam. John was short and slim when he was in the army and perfect for going into Vietnamese tunnels with nothing but a .45 caliber pistol to root out whatever he found down there. It was a dangerous thing to do. Later he was a door gunner on a helicopter, another dangerous occupation there. He survived and was a fun guy to work with. John worked countless weekends to keep product flowing through the plant. The micro-section duties he performed were the essential point in workflow within the plant.
Steve worked years longer there then I did. My opinion is that he knew every operation in the plant and his job caused him to react with most departments. We filled in for each other when one of us was on vacation or having a day off. I admit that Steve did better with my job when I was gone than me doing his job when he was gone. When one of us was gone, the other had to cope with both jobs.
The third person was Bob Dill, who worked on second shift in the micro-section lab at Litton/Northrop Grumman. Bob was a tall handsome guy whom the single ladies seemed to flock around. Bob had an early bad marriage that left him to shun his female admirers. We were on different shifts, which limited our time together to the overlapping shift times. Bob liked his beer as I did. I enjoyed getting home and then calling him on the phone to say, "hey Bob, listen to this" as I cracked open a fresh, cold beer. It was torture for him, but it was a fun game to play. Bob and John were released from their jobs at the factory a few months after I was. Bob and John lost their insurance and income as I did, but Bob and John were too young to go on Social Security as I was. Not long after leaving the company Bob got into his truck one evening to go to a Sonic drive-in for a hamburger. It was less than 2 blocks from his home. After finishing his burger, Bob started his truck to go home. It took him 3 hours to find his home because he forgot where it was. When he found it, he drove into his garage, forgetting to open the door. He had a large brain tumor that hampered his brain functions. He went to his doctor, was diagnosed and went to the hospital to have a radiation mask made so the hospital could radiate the tumor, but not ruin his brain. The problem was the hospital had not had the radiation equipment calibrated for 2 years. They ended up giving him 2 times the prescribed dosage, which probably killed him slowly. He had a perfect case to sue the hospital and one of the local ambulance chasers pestered him for a long time, wanting to sue the hospital. Bob never relented to sue because he had family that worked there and he was afraid there might be retribution for his family after he died.
I spent a lot of time with Bob as he was slowly dying. Sadly I missed visiting him during the last week of his life. As I remember Bob was cremated and his family had a memorial wake/service afterward. Bob must have been well liked because there was a standing room only crowd for the service. After the service I went up to speak with his sister and mother whom I had met during my visits with Bob. They both appreciated my visits with Bob as he slowly slipped away. Bob paid into Medicare and Social Security all his working life, but never collected a nickel from either one. That makes me sad to think about it.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
This remainder of this post focuses on just a few of the people that never got the recognition they deserved. John Alehandro, Steve Williams and Bob Dill.
John started his army life as a tunnel rat in Vietnam. John was short and slim when he was in the army and perfect for going into Vietnamese tunnels with nothing but a .45 caliber pistol to root out whatever he found down there. It was a dangerous thing to do. Later he was a door gunner on a helicopter, another dangerous occupation there. He survived and was a fun guy to work with. John worked countless weekends to keep product flowing through the plant. The micro-section duties he performed were the essential point in workflow within the plant.
Steve worked years longer there then I did. My opinion is that he knew every operation in the plant and his job caused him to react with most departments. We filled in for each other when one of us was on vacation or having a day off. I admit that Steve did better with my job when I was gone than me doing his job when he was gone. When one of us was gone, the other had to cope with both jobs.
The third person was Bob Dill, who worked on second shift in the micro-section lab at Litton/Northrop Grumman. Bob was a tall handsome guy whom the single ladies seemed to flock around. Bob had an early bad marriage that left him to shun his female admirers. We were on different shifts, which limited our time together to the overlapping shift times. Bob liked his beer as I did. I enjoyed getting home and then calling him on the phone to say, "hey Bob, listen to this" as I cracked open a fresh, cold beer. It was torture for him, but it was a fun game to play. Bob and John were released from their jobs at the factory a few months after I was. Bob and John lost their insurance and income as I did, but Bob and John were too young to go on Social Security as I was. Not long after leaving the company Bob got into his truck one evening to go to a Sonic drive-in for a hamburger. It was less than 2 blocks from his home. After finishing his burger, Bob started his truck to go home. It took him 3 hours to find his home because he forgot where it was. When he found it, he drove into his garage, forgetting to open the door. He had a large brain tumor that hampered his brain functions. He went to his doctor, was diagnosed and went to the hospital to have a radiation mask made so the hospital could radiate the tumor, but not ruin his brain. The problem was the hospital had not had the radiation equipment calibrated for 2 years. They ended up giving him 2 times the prescribed dosage, which probably killed him slowly. He had a perfect case to sue the hospital and one of the local ambulance chasers pestered him for a long time, wanting to sue the hospital. Bob never relented to sue because he had family that worked there and he was afraid there might be retribution for his family after he died.
I spent a lot of time with Bob as he was slowly dying. Sadly I missed visiting him during the last week of his life. As I remember Bob was cremated and his family had a memorial wake/service afterward. Bob must have been well liked because there was a standing room only crowd for the service. After the service I went up to speak with his sister and mother whom I had met during my visits with Bob. They both appreciated my visits with Bob as he slowly slipped away. Bob paid into Medicare and Social Security all his working life, but never collected a nickel from either one. That makes me sad to think about it.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
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