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railroad work clothes

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  • Member since
    December 2001
  • From: Denver / La Junta
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Posted by mudchicken on Monday, November 30, 2015 11:46 AM

EmbarrassedWrote off overalls long ago. Duluth firehose cargo pants and a heavy khaki work shirt. With the crud I get into, BossHen is often waiting at the back door with the firehose and a bar of Lava....entry to the house denied until I surrender the offending garments. (mudroom has become Mud's Room)

The worst is usually after a bridge fire. Mooks has heard a few of those stories.

Mudchicken Nothing is worth taking the risk of losing a life over. Come home tonight in the same condition that you left home this morning in. Safety begins with ME.... cinscocom-west
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  • From: Northern New York
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Posted by tree68 on Monday, November 30, 2015 12:12 PM

mudchicken
BossHen is often waiting at the back door

Back when smoking was allowed in places like our banquet hall, one of the folks who often oversaw events when we rented the building out would often come home and strip at the back door because of the smell of cigarette smoke that permeated his clothes.

LarryWhistling
Resident Microferroequinologist (at least at my house) 
Everyone goes home; Safety begins with you
My Opinion. Standard Disclaimers Apply. No Expiration Date
Come ride the rails with me!
There's one thing about humility - the moment you think you've got it, you've lost it...

  • Member since
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  • From: Denver / La Junta
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Posted by mudchicken on Monday, November 30, 2015 1:01 PM

BossHen once explained to the current El Heffe' that I got up in the morning, chugged downed breakfast, went outside and rolled in the dirt at least twice before going to work. The look on his face was priceless. Comes with the turf.

Mudchicken Nothing is worth taking the risk of losing a life over. Come home tonight in the same condition that you left home this morning in. Safety begins with ME.... cinscocom-west
  • Member since
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  • From: Burbank IL (near Clearing)
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Posted by CSSHEGEWISCH on Monday, November 30, 2015 1:58 PM

Could be worse.  I once had a summer job for exactly one day at a tar paper plant, not unlike a paper mill.  Needless to say, I had to take off my work clothes before Mom would let me in the house.  The work clothes were thrown out and US Steel called right after I got home to offer me a job in their steel warehouse, which I accepted immediately.

The daily commute is part of everyday life but I get two rides a day out of it. Paul
  • Member since
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Posted by Mookie on Monday, November 30, 2015 5:13 PM

mudchicken

BossHen once explained to the current El Heffe' that I got up in the morning, chugged downed breakfast, went outside and rolled in the dirt at least twice before going to work. The look on his face was priceless. Comes with the turf.

 

Finally, a good laugh for today!  And knowing BossHen, I can hear her saying this!  Too funny!  

She who has no signature! cinscocom-tmw

  • Member since
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  • From: Northern Florida
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Posted by SALfan on Monday, November 30, 2015 10:21 PM

CSSHEGEWISCH

Could be worse.  I once had a summer job for exactly one day at a tar paper plant, not unlike a paper mill.  Needless to say, I had to take off my work clothes before Mom would let me in the house.  The work clothes were thrown out and US Steel called right after I got home to offer me a job in their steel warehouse, which I accepted immediately.

When my brother and I picked tobacco growing up, Mama made us leave a clean outfit just inside the back door before leaving, and directed us to strip and change when we got back home.  The dirty clothes were thrown outside, and after we showered we were responsible for putting them into a washtub with a liberal dose of laundry detergent and water.  The next day we changed the water/detergent mix and added the clothes from that day, and same thing the day after that (our cousin's tobacco field where we were working took about 3 days for the crew to go through).  Twenty-four to 48 hours after the last clothes were added, we had to wring out the whole pile, and only then was it clean enough to go into the washing machine.  Picking tobacco was undoubtedly the nastiest job I ever had, and I didn't miss it one bit after I didn't have to do it any more. 

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