mark gets shingles
There was a pond behind the Wells' house, and I availed myself of some time in their boat. In the evenings, after it had cooled off and the sun was low enough to cast a shadow across the water, I would sometimes lounge across the bottom of the dinghy with my feet up on the gunwale and read a book, the boat gently rocking.
I remember seeing a picture of me in the boat but haven’t been able to find it. I wish I had more photos of this trip to share with you, but I guess you’ll have to make do with the images I’ve tried to create by writing. I haven't found any journals with a fewer number of pictures than this one, with the exception of Bill Stone's excellent 1983 journal from Athens to London.
I got a lot of sleep, but I never slept late. Every morning between 8:00-8:30, my sleep ended abruptly with a pounding sound that reverberated throughout the house, and even more so in my head: Mr. Wells was reroofing the house.
I spent a fair amount of time helping him, initially just hauling the shingles to him and moving the scaffolding. After a couple of days I was able to do more, and by the time I left I could lay down a square or so (1 “square” = 100 square feet) a day. I’m just tossing some roofing terminology out there to show you I’m a roofer-in-the-know, even though I’ve done absolutely zero roofing since.
Ben took me to his school, an integral part of his life, where I was introduced to Ann Washburn, Ken Clem, Melanie Myrick, and Larry Lewiski, all of whom I would eventually have extended conversations with and get to know better over the week and a half I was there.
My notes document how much Ann was making ($4.44/hour) and how much the rent for her apartment was ($170.00/month). Just out of curiosity, I performed an exhaustive internet search (googling “minimum wage in 1980” and selecting the first thing that came up) and learned that the minimum wage was $3.10/hour. In Alabama (as well as my state and many others), forty years later, it’s now $7.25/hour. Now I’m curious about what an apartment in Gadsden goes for these days.
I replaced my broken spoke, and was gratified to see that the repair carried me all the way to the end of my trip without causing any problems.
I learned to shuck corn, which would come in handy after moving to Iowa in 2008.
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