Old Man, Look At My Life I'm a Lot Like You Were...
Previously, Chapter 30: Whisper Words of Wisdom, Let It Be...
Shutterstock Images.When Irv and Gloria returned from their mini vacation, they looked rested, but I could see the concern on their faces. In just a couple of days, Irv was going in for surgery to remove a tumor from his colon, and we were all very nervous.
After the surgery, the head surgeon told Gloria that when they opened Irv up, the cancer had spread to other parts of his body. It was 1982, and doctors were still in the early stages of learning how to treat cancer. I was 26 at the time, and Susan was 23, the baby in her family, and we had no idea what the actual prognosis was. No one was telling us any specifics.
When Irv came home from the hospital, he went directly upstairs to the master bedroom in his Cape-style house, where he would spend his days in bed. Despite only being an Apprentice, Irv was okay with letting me do the work. What other choice did we have? I had proven myself to him over the past six months, so he knew I was capable of doing plumbing repairs. We were lucky Irv gave me the shoebox full of tools and some jobs to do on my own, because I had the experience I needed to keep Sharon Plumbing, which was established in 1958, the year Susan was born, open for business until Irv could get back on his feet.
I arrived early every morning, sat with Gloria in the kitchen, and went over the list of jobs for the day. Then I'd go upstairs to consult with Irv. We went over the jobs together, and when he was done, Irv always asked me if I had any questions. If he saw something challenging, he'd describe in detail how I should do it. Before I left in the morning, he reminded me that if I got stuck or had any questions mid-job, to stop, come back to the house, and he'd help me figure it out. It was hard for Irv not being on the jobsite.
I felt a deep sense of pride working the family business in Irv's absence. He had become like a father to me; I loved him, and I was having a difficult time seeing him struggle with his health.
When I was dating Susan, Irv and Gloria knew I didn't have much money for food and no place to go for a home-cooked meal. They constantly invited me over for supper. At one point, I became uncomfortable with their incredible generosity, and I approached Irv. "I know you're buying dinner for three now and you're feeding me too. I feel bad about it, and if it's a problem…"
That's when Irv stopped me, "Youngman, don't worry about that. As long as there's food on our table, there will always be enough for you…"
That's who Irv was. He and his younger brother Knute lost their mother, and then just a few short years later, their father. They had suddenly become orphans. Irv was only 16. A family in the neighborhood who were good friends with Irv's parents took them in. Irv appreciated the kindness the Hardens showed him and his brother, and he was more than happy to do the same for me. That's how kindness works.
At the end of the day, I'd go back in the kitchen and fill out job slips that included the time I spent doing each job and the materials I used. Knute worked as a salesman for AJ Felz Plumbing Supply in Newton, and a couple of days a week, on the way home, he'd visit Irv and price the parts so Gloria could send out the bills. Irv adjusted the labor to how long it would've taken him. I was a rookie, and it took me a little longer, and he didn't want his customers to pay for my inexperience.
Knute was smaller than Irv and not as physical, but I was told he was very smart. He lived in Canton, near the Stoughton line, in a small ranch-style house with his wife Kay and their kids. He and his wife were both incredibly generous, just like Irv and Gloria. They were constantly giving Susan and me free passes to the Norwood Cinema. We got to see every movie that came out in the late 70s through the early 80s.
I saw Irv daily, and I couldn't help but notice that his once-muscular forearms were starting to atrophy. When he was able to, he forced himself to walk up and down the stairs to keep his legs in shape, hopeful that he'd be back to work soon.
Irv had always worked five days a week and a half a day on Saturday. I once offered to come in on Saturday to help him out, but he told me to enjoy the weekend with Susan. He said plumbing wasn't just his job; it was his hobby too, and he enjoyed working alone on Saturday mornings.
Advertisement
After the fourth week working solo and feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, I began to realize the real-life effects of hard work along with the added responsibility of trying to keep up with the workload. By Friday of every week, I was totally exhausted, which gave me an even deeper appreciation for what Irv had accomplished throughout his entire life.
I was working a difficult job in an older house in Sharon Center, on a free-standing pedestal sink that developed a leak in the lead drain, which rose vertically from the floor and up through the sink's pedestal leg. I knew there was a dual-inlet lead trap under the floor that also picked up the Essex tub. I had seen Irv repair several lead sink drains, so I knew how to do it and was up for the task.
The job involved carefully cutting the damaged end of lead pipe and using a flaring pin to create a new spot for the rough brass tailpiece. You had to cut the tailpiece to length, tin the non-threaded end, and, once it was fitted, drip lead solder into the tight space between the tailpiece and the lead drainpipe, creating a water-tight connection. There were a lot of ways to screw it up.
I went over it with Irv before I left his bedside in the morning, assuring him I could do it. By then, PVC had become popular, and fixing a lead drain using old-school methods was a lost art, but because of Irv, I knew how to do it.
I was determined to do a great job and make Irv proud. Once I removed the old tailpiece and had the lead pipe cut and flared, I began preparing the new tailpiece for tinning, which involves prepping the pipe, dripping solder onto it, and wiping it smooth. Just as I lit my acetylene torch, a young guy wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt with a head full of red hair walked into the second-floor bathroom unannounced. I recognized him from the supply house in Norwood. He was one of Irv's friends' sons who worked for his dad, a plumber out of Walpole. He was a rugged kid, about the same height and build as me, slightly older, with much more experience.
I immediately shut my torch and asked him what he was doing here. He said, "Your father-in-law called my dad and asked if I could come over here and give you a hand…"
My back went up in a hurry, and looking fiercely into his eyes, I said, "I don't need your help, so you can leave. Thanks anyway…"
He asked again nicely, "Are you sure? I can give you a hand…"
I responded defensively, "I know what I'm doing. I'm all set, thanks." And then I relit the torch, an obvious sign for him to leave, which he did.
I finished the job, and it came out great. Irv had taught me well.
When I got back to the house, I went upstairs to talk with Irv. He immediately asked me why I didn't want any help. I told him, "Because I was taught how to do it by a pro. I didn't need any help."
Irv was just protecting me. He didn't want me getting in over my head.
On the way home that afternoon, I felt horrible about the way I treated that kid who was only trying to help. I overreacted. I was too possessive of the job, and I shouldn't have been. I've always regretted the way I acted that day. I guess I was too proud and too stubborn to accept any help, and I could've been nicer about it.
When Irv hired me, he gave me the opportunity to learn a trade and make something of myself, same as his uncle had done for him. I was determined to hold down the fort until he was back turning wrenches again…
Advertisement
To be continued…