A Summer Job by Laura Ferris

A Summer Job
By Laura Ferris

Several summers had passed since we owned our cabin and my dad still travelled each and every weekend. My sister was now in college and usually stayed at home, preferring her social life without parents on the weekends to the quieter life at the lake with parents. I was occasionally left at the lake without parents but really, up at the lake, they lived their life and I had my own life apart from them. My younger sister was still around but only when my mom was at the house. She still had to go home if mom was not going to be up there. Her love had transitioned from horses to skiing and we were the stars of the doubles act during the show. It was easy skiing with your sister; none of that uncomfortable sex stuff getting in the way of holding her and I could yell at her without her dissolving into tears if she screwed up; or truth be told, when I screwed up.
However, although my parents were still supportive of me living at the lake, they made it clear that I was expected to earn some money. I needed to save for expenses during the school year as well as dates and social outings during the summer, particularly with college starting in the fall. But, what kind of job can an 18 year old get at a lake? Most of the jobs available to teens were taken by the locals; working at the soda fountain, bagging groceries, pumping gas at the marina. And, I really, really needed to have enough time to ski with my two buddies, Don and Will. Don was the best skier, particularly with trick ski’s and on the slalom. Will was the most foolhardy; he would try anything, and because of this personality quirk, he was far and away the best jumper. And me, I was the best barefooter. Don and Will said it was because of the size of my feet; they would never have said I was best at something because of my skill. I was still the newcomer to the group. I think Don and Will started skiing together when they were about five! But, we all did everything and we practiced at least six hours a day. Shows were on Wednesday evenings and Sundays and usually there were four or more tournaments during the summer that we had to be available to ski in. So, what were we going to do?
I don’t remember who had the first thought of being trash men. There was no garbage pickup in the rural area around our lake. People had to take their trash to the town dump and it was only open for trash delivery on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. You could get close to the dump at night though and it was a favorite spot for dates. I know that sounds odd; who wants to take a date to the dump? But, believe me, there was no better way to get a girl to scoot close than coming upon a family of bears who look up and snarl loudly at the sound of the approaching car! They really didn’t like to be disturbed when eating! But, this story isn’t about my dates that summer; it’s about my desperate need to make money so I could continue my life at the lake.
The three of us were sitting reviewing our options for the summer and like I said, someone came up with the idea of being trash men. We knew we could get a loan from our fathers to pay for a dump truck and then sell it in the fall and pay back the money. All we needed was a customer list to show our dads; then they would know this was a serious effort. Each of us enlisted our mothers, and then we went to friends and neighbors. To our surprise, almost everyone liked the idea. We would come to their houses on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings; put their trash in the back of the truck and take it to the dump! It was a great plan and after we presented the idea, our fathers agreed to front us the money for the truck. We became “The Trashmen Trio” and our truck was known throughout the area.
We had lots of adventures that summer. Of course we knew nothing about driving a truck or running a business. Fortunately the roads around the lake were pretty empty of other traffic and after scaring a few other cars off the side of the road, we eventually learned to keep the truck on our side of the road. Only once did we have a close call. I was driving and at the time (and still if truth be told) I was very afraid of bees and wasps. Going down a long and lonely road, a wasp flew right in the window and straight at me. Without thinking, I opened the truck door and jumped out. There was no way I was going to stay in that cab with a wasp! Obviously I forgot I was driving. Fortunately Don or Will (whoever was in the middle that day; a spot no one wanted and we had to rotate between us) was able to jump over in the driving seat and take over the wheel. Fifty years later I still haven’t lived that one down. I still see Don and Will occasionally and that story is one that always comes up.
Learning how to run a business was harder than driving a truck! We really couldn’t understand why customers were angry with us if we missed a trash day. Normally the days we missed were bright and hot and sunny; way too great a day to spend the morning in a dump truck picking up trash vs. being on the water. And, sometimes we missed or were late if the night before had been too much fun. At 18 there were never enough nights that were too much fun. The local bars had no qualms about serving us beer; even my sister had her own beer mug at the local hangout, “The Broken Knuckle, Just Another Joint”. Our mugs were decorated with handmade insignias and the title, “The Trashmen Trio” was written down the handle. I still have that mug somewhere. The memory that has lasted the longest is that of a party in my yard on the lake. Early in the day, we drove the truck onto the lawn and washed it really well. Then we decorated the entire truck with Christmas lights that someone had up there and filled the bed with straw. When our friends and fellow ski team members arrived, they could see the truck for blocks away. It was a party to remember and I’m sure we didn’t work the next day!
We had that trash business for the next two years. We got some new customers and lost some old ones, still not knowing much about running a business vs. doing what we wanted to do and having fun. But, the business paid enough to keep us in beer and provide us with spending money at school the following year. By the end of the second summer, it was over. We sold the truck, paid back our dads and realized it was time to grow up and get on with real life. I got a job in the city and began the long commute with my dad each weekend. Within a year I was married and had a child on the way. Life at the lake was idyllic; a coming of age era that cannot be duplicated in today’s society. I am forever grateful that I experienced it to the fullest.