The Front Porch Prophet

“What factors will you look at when deciding who will be employed?” Ellis kicked A.J. again, harder this time. He continued. “The mill has exceeded production goals five out of the last six years. Everyone in this room is a professional. What else could possibly matter?” Ellis didn’t kick A.J. this time, and all eyes were on Ralph Hunter. Hunter’s eyes were on A.J.

“You men certainly know how to make lumber, and plenty of it,” Hunter began. “This will be taken into account. In addition, we have other requirements with respect to our supervisory personnel. But we will leave all of this in the able hands of Mr. Kramer. For now, we will adjourn. Some of you have shifts in progress, and a supervisor’s first job is to supervise. So let’s get at ’em.” Hunter had tried to be one of the boys with his last statement, but he simply wasn’t up to the task. A.J. hoped he would hire one of the real boys to be hale and hearty for him, because the need would occasionally arise and most or all of the group would need the work.

“Mr. Simpson, I wonder if you would mind meeting me in the personnel office?” asked Mr. Kramer, although it wasn’t really a question at all. Ellis froze. Then he looked at A.J., who was a little surprised that the weeding process was beginning so soon.

“Welcome to the Fortune 500, Ellis,” A.J. said softly. “Show them what you’ve got.” He slugged his friend on the shoulder. Ellis left looking worried, his thoughts no doubt consumed by visions of nine hungry children without shoes watching their mama, Raynell, working her fingers to the bone taking in ironing. A.J. thought they should have at least offered him a blindfold and a cigarette. He hoped maybe they were starting with the ones they were keeping, but in his heart of hearts he knew it wasn’t so.

“Mr. Longstreet, can I have a minute of your time?” Ralph Hunter asked, and again, it really wasn’t a question at all. The room had cleared out. “There are some things we need to discuss.” A.J. was certain that the hardball was about to begin. They were moving him up to the head of the line. It was a compliment, really, like shooting the rogue steer first so the rest of the herd would be easier to control.

“Mr. Longstreet,” Ralph began, briskly flipping through the pages in front of him in a businesslike manner. “According to the information I have been provided, your shift has exceeded its production goals by substantial margins ever since you began your supervisory duties on night shift.”

“Yes,” A.J. commented.

“Additionally, your absentee rate is lower than industry average and none of your employees have ever suffered a serious injury.” Hunter put his papers down and looked across the table at A.J. He leaned back and lit a cigarette. “How do you do it?” he asked.

“How many of the men who just left this room are going to be offered jobs?” A.J. countered. “I know I’m history, but what about the rest?” It was very quiet in the room.

“You will be offered a position, Mr. Longstreet,” Ralph Hunter answered. A.J. couldn’t believe it. There had to be a catch. Hunter continued. “Alabama Southern does not plan to offer any of the others salaried jobs. They will all be given the choice of leaving or filling hourly positions in the mills. Monetarily, those who move on will do quite well. Those who stay will be able to make a living. I believe I am correct in my understanding that they all promoted up from the ranks in the first place, as you did. We will fill the slots they vacate with excess supervisory staff from our other locations. All veterans, all more qualified.” A.J. had to give Hunter credit. He hadn’t blinked. He apparently had more than a little of the rough stuff under his belt, which was no doubt why the Lumber Executives had sent him on this mission. It was why Ralph got the ham hock in his beans.

“Well, you were honest,” A.J. admitted. “The problem is, I can’t think of a more qualified group. What are you looking for that they don’t have? Why are you offering them all twenty thousand dollars to leave? They know how to make this mill run. They know the machines and the employees. Why don’t you want them?” A.J. had made his pitch.

“We require that all members of management have a college degree,” Ralph Hunter replied. “None of your co-workers has a degree, and three of them did not graduate high school. Additionally, we have historically had less than satisfactory results when we assimilated an existing supervisory staff. It just does not work out. As you pointed out, we are making leaving a very attractive option. We do try to be fair about these things. And any who stay will not be singled out. There will be no hit list, unless, of course, the job performance is not satisfactory, which is sometimes the case in demotion situations. To keep all of this in perspective, you need to remember that we could simply fire you all on the spot. No options, no money, no anything.” A.J. knew he had a point.