The foundry was modern and worked mainly in aluminum with the occasional foray into bronze or brass. I was clean and well ventilated. I mention this because after this foundry closed I found a job in another foundry. Iron and old hat. The hot metal was poured by hand and the place existed on one floor with sand an dust everywhere. Outside was a giant pile of iron-bathtubs, old cars, junk of all sort. But that’s another story.

One thing that was common in both foundries was the Furnaceman. He had to work near stupendous heat all day long. Starting work he would put on his work clothes. They were, from the start,  burnt and torn with splashes of metal. Skinny and undernourished it affected his mind as well. The furnace men that I worked with were always on the edge of lunacy. Sometimes this came out as anger (nobody would challenge a furnace man) but mostly non-stop talking. Sentences that didn’t make any sense.

To some of the workers there I was known as the boss’s kid and they resented that. They tried to trip me up whenever possible. After I started working in the machine shop they’re opportunities almost disappeared. However, at lunch I was the recipient of endless jibes. It got quite tiresome. Once when we ran out of work machining I was detailed to work with these guys making molds. As I said before, the sand came from up above and all you had to do was shake it into the molds. The molds were pretty simple. You filled two halves, one bottom, one top, and put the facsimile between them. then you pressed the two halves together with a kind of hydraulic machine. You opened them, removed the object and sprayed the tops of both halves with something that would harden. These were left to dry for an hour or so before the metal was poured.

Eventually a place in the machine shop opened up and I was introduced to the work of refining the stuff that the foundry produced. I met the man who was in charge of the work. He was 80 years old! Still functioning, he told me that if he ever quit he would die. (And this was true. When the owner died and the place went up for sale he lost his job and promptly expired) He only worked half a day and would come in late and work the lathe until he got tired and went home. Good man! Taught me a lot of stuff. I mainly worked the drill press.

I drew this in 1962!

I was driving a friend down the hill on Granville street when I mentioned that I was looking for  job. He mentioned that his father owned a foundry and I should apply. He said he’d put in a good word for me.

I did apply and found myself working at Bird Foundry on 2nd ave. just east of main. It was an aluminum foundry and fairly modern. It had lifts for the molten metal and a basement where the used sand was gathered and lifted up to the attic where it was shaken down again for molds by the workers. My job, of course, was the lowest of the low. I was the cleanup kid. I had to patrol the foundry and do whatever was needed to keep the place clean and functioning. It wasn’t ’til later that I discovered what a functioning old fashioned foundry was.