Jay Helwig

Hope Creek

Hope Creek

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It was just a hole in the ground when I got there. But it was a big hole. Right on the Delaware Bay across from Wilmington, but on the NJ side. They were building a nuclear power plant and the hole was for the foundations. 100 feet deep. To keep the water out they had pumps in the bottom. As the water seeped in, it was pumped out.

I was working for PSE&G., the electric utility building the power plant. One of my responsibilities was to walk around the construction site and observe. Not really do any thing just watch. Watch for what I hadn’t quite figured out. But I did do a lot of watching. Being a sidewalk superintendent, minus the sidewalk wasn’t bad.

On one of my endless trips around the mouth of the hole I saw a figure lying under a huge earth moving piece of equipment. The figure didn’t move as I approached. Oh, ohh, perhaps he had fell or had a heart attack. I started to run towards him. I got close enough to see his mouth and he was snoring. I could hear it. I was bewildered. He was in plain sight. I was about to reach out and touch him when another hand touched me on the shoulder and pulled me away.

“He’s asleep”. I said. “Yeah came the reply”, that’s old Joe. Old Joe’s about to get reported I said.

“Don’t do that” he replied, Old Joe’s got 5 kids and needs the job. I pondered this for a second.

“Well he can’t sleep here” I told him. “I’ll wake him up”. “Tell Old Joe he better sleep over in the weeds where he can’t be seen”. “Sleeping out here is not gonna work’”

I moved on and Old Joe had been relocated when I came around again.

Word got out about the Old Joe incident. The trade guys would acknowledge me as I walked around. That was new.

Weeks passed, concrete blocks were poured, and a new trade arrived on the site. Each trade type had its own hard hat color. That way you could tell who was what trade. Iron workers wore red, electricians wore yellow, laborers wore blue, and the new trade, roofers wore green.

The roofers had a reputation. Not long before the president of the local Phila roofers union had answered his door and admitted a flower delivery guy. The delivery guy cut him down with a shot gun blast.

Roofers started water proofing the foundation slabs. Waterproofing was roofers work and each trade jealously guarded their contract defined work tasks.

I’d walk around inside the hole. It was stinking hot that summer. July in the hole. The roofers would look my way when I came around. Everyone had to wear a hardhat that was the rule. Roofers would take theirs off to cool down. Most trade guys would put their hard hats back on when I came by. Not the roofers. They didn’t care if I was there.

“Is that your silver car in the lot”? Yeah, I just got it last week “I replied. The questioner did not have on a hard hat so I guessed he was a roofer. The car was a 1979 Mazda RX7 sports car.
“Move it inside the gate.”

“I can’t do that”. The gate was in a fence and inside the gate was a security zone. Personal cars were forbidden. A security guard was at the gate.

“God, just do it, for once do what you’re told”. I reconsidered. Something about his tone told me moving the car was a good idea.

I went into the lot, got inside and drove to the gate. The security guard walked up. “Open the gate” I told him.

“You can’t take your car in there” he replied.
“Just do it I said”. “I’ll take responsibility”. Here’s my ID badge.
“I’m going to call this in” he said.

“I know”, just do it”.

He opened the gate and in I drove. I parked it just inside the fence.

I walked to the administration building. It didn’t take long. The site boss came looking and told me to come to his office.

“What the hell you doing” he said. Security called about you and your car. “I know I just moved it inside the fence”.
“You know the rules. What the hell are you doing?”
“Something’s up”, I said.

There was an explosion from the parking lot. We rushed to his office window. The fireball was rising up. We ran outside.

My car had been parked next to a pickup owned by a foreman. Someone, no one knew who, had stuffed a rag down the gas tank and lit it. The pickup exploded. My car, if it had not been moved would have burned too.

Next day as I made my rounds I said thanks to every hard hat I passed. I didn’t know who to thank so I thanked everybody. As I passed the
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