A MEAT-CUTTER'S LAMENT

I could tell you a story on Labor Day about Michigan not being “a right to work” state and team up with the unfortunate low-wage earners and small business owners in railing against the unions, but to do so would mean choosing a position of weakness or strength. So I’m not going to pontificate for or against unions even though I’ll admit, the first time I read Ayn Rand’s “Atlas Shrugged,” I wanted to shout out to the world, “You got what you deserved!” Little did I know that Rand’s characters lacked human depth, that they were mere puppets pushing her “Philosophy of Objectivism.” And why not? Knowing John Galt's identity meant superiority, while forgetting it meant framing yourself into a substandard existence.

Which brings me to the story I heard from a meat-cutter. “There’s a half-way house not too far away from where I work in Detroit,” he explained, “Eastern Market. A parolee seeking employment walked into our establishment and said he had experience as a butcher. He was straightforward with us, explaining that he did not have a car, that he was an ex-felon, that he’d appreciate the opportunity to prove himself. For whatever reason, whether it was the sincerity in his voice or our need to find experienced workers, we decided to give him a chance.”

“Billy, it turns out, couldn’t cut meat for shit. He wasn’t completely truthful, but he had a heart of gold. His willingness to learn shined through. At first he did the menial jobs, scrapping excess meat off the floor, unloading trucks, and carting packaged orders to the freezer until pick-up. We would’ve consider Billy for overtime, however, he had to report back to the half-way house by a certain time or risk going back to prison. In fact, his parole officer would periodically call us to see if Billy showed up for work.”

I asked the meat-cutter if he regretted hiring Billy and he said, “absolutely not.” Then he continued, “After one year we let Billy make deliveries. Three months into his new position and not one single problem. I even filled out paper work for his parole officer, giving Billy high marks on punctuality and work ethic. Unfortunately, the delivery truck he was driving broke down one day in Mount Clemens. Billy called us in a panic. I personally took it upon myself to explain the situation to his parole officer. ‘If he’s more than ten minutes late,’ the parole officer said, ‘he’s violated the conditions of his parole.’ So we had to send another worker to Mount Clemens to pick-up Billy and get him back to the half-way house, instead of having him wait with the truck.”

I asked if Billy made it back on time. “Oh yeah,” the meat-cutter said. “In fact, Billy eventually moved on to another job. He used us as a reference too. Things turned out fine for him.” I could tell something bothered the meat-cutter. “We’re trying to run a business," he said. "The parole officer should’ve made an allowance, considering the circumstances. Would you believe he called us with a referral, and we reminded him that under no certain terms would we hire another ex-felon.”