In 1967, I quit high school in March. You might say, “March? Why so close to the end of the year?” The truth is, I had many loose ends from previous grades. I failed grade 10 math, grade 11 math, and all my grade 12 grades were found wanting.

I thought if I ran, I could put it all behind me, so I did. Not being in school meant that I had to find work so I applied at the Oliver sawmill. The only position available was relief in case someone became sick or needed to miss a shift.

During previous summers I had done some work at the mill in the yard stacking lumber. The money was good but the work was boring, I couldn’t enjoy it, but now I had to bite the bullet and do what I could.

One afternoon, I got the call. The mill wanted me for a graveyard shift, 12 midnight to 6 AM; I packed my lunch and filled a thermos. Close to the starting time I drove my Honda 90 cc motorbike to the sawmill parking lot to begin my shift.

When I walked into the office, they told me I was to work on the green chain. At the time I thought that would be okay. Then I was shown where on the green chain I was to work.

My position was on the end. I was the last of a number of men stacking lumber. Then I found out that I was expected to stack lumber on both sides of the chain which meant I had to scramble over the moving chain to get to the other side. The green chain was the most labor intensive area of the sawmill, in my opinion.

The freshly felled logs had sat in the pond while waiting to enter the mill so they were water logged. The logs were directed up a moving chain to where the big saw was located and then they were cut.

The green chain was about 30 inches high and approximately 10 to 12 feet wide. It had several moving chains which carried the freshly cut lumber from the big saw to the the workers to stack. The lumber was various lengths and widths and all the slabs were 2 inches thick.

The equipment we were given were leather gloves and a leather apron. The gloves were wet within minutes but at least they kept the slivers out.

As the slabs came to my section, I would eyeball each one and decide which stack it would go on, then drag it off the chain and slide it onto the stack.

I had four stacks of lumber on which to pile the wet wood. Scrambling over the chain was exhausting, although it took two hours before I noticed the toll it was taking.

All the wood that I missed pulling off the chain went off the end of the chain and fell onto the ground below it, a distance of 12 feet from the ground to the top of the green chain.

At the time I was 6 feet two inches tall weighing a paltry 130 pounds. I was not in shape for this kind of work. I’m assuming the other workers took the easier jobs leaving the hardest one for the relief guy.

During the first coffee break the other workers told me it was my job to retrieve the missed lumber which had gone over the end and place it on the piles. I tried my best but was slow and didn’t get it all before the coffee break ended.

By lunch time I was tired, but I wasn’t a quitter so I motored on. Again I was told I would have to retrieve the missed lumber, but I didn’t and took my break and ate my lunch. That helped revive me somewhat.

At one point I was so tired I stopped scrambling over the chain and let the wood fall off the end. By then I was too tired to care, but needed to make it to the end of the shift looking somewhat productive.

Finally the end came. At that point, the over flow wood was piled right up to the height of chain. I was exhausted! It was all I could do to drag my sorry carcass over to the motorbike and strap on my helmet.

With great effort I lifted my leg over the seat to straddle the bike, turned on the ignition, and prepared to crank the motor with my foot. I thought to myself, do I have enough energy to crank it again if the motor doesn’t start? I cranked it and the motor fired up, thankfully!

I made it home and decided that the mill work was not something I could do. The mill officials drew the same conclusion for they didn’t call me back.

It was sometime in April when the BC Forest Service called me to work in their fire suppression section in north central BC. That was a job I enjoyed and had no trouble doing it well and I was fit enough to handle it.

For a young man starting out in life it was a good beginning.

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