Dad’s Hard Hat

Recently I came across my father’s hard hat in my shop and it still had the toilet paper in a plastic bag tucked in the liner and this brought back memories. My mother used to save the last part of the toilet paper rolls so they could be flattened to fit into the hat.

I must have been around fourteen when I graduated from helping my mother with canning and things in the house to helping dad. My father bought me my own small power saw which was a green Poland. My job was to limb the trees after dad cut them down. I was not more than ninety pounds and cutting all those limbs were like cutting through a jungle. It was hard work but I was in heaven because I was a logger and proud of it. I even had the pin striped shirt with the half zipper. I remember asking mom to get me the red suspenders and the pants with buttons on the waist to fasten them to which she did for me even though it wasn’t needed. 

I remember trying to carry the saw like the cutters do by placing the bar on my shoulder but only got scratches because I did not have the leather shoulder patch. 

I eventually learned to set choker and drive the cat in the summer. If I wasn’t trimming Christmas trees, I logged with my dad or brother Mark.

I find it sad that teenagers don’t go to work with their fathers anymore.  In the summer when I was in high school, that was what you did. You washed log trucks, helped with construction, farmed, went to the mill or the shop and did some kind of entry work. We learned real skill on how to be a man.

Dan Kintigh