I joined ironworker local 721 in the early nineteen sixties, at a time when Blakie Boily was a business agent and the dispatcher at the upstairs office at 1604 Bloor street west. I remember him as a hard man who did not want anybody to know or even suspect that he had a heart of gold. It was just a short while before the erection of the first Toronto Dominion tower, and I remember looking down on the rest of the city. It think it really was the first modern sky scraper in Toronto, and maybe the last time a building was erected with the use of guide wire derricks. To me, that was the start of the development in Toronto, and we could not then have imagine what the sky line of Toronto now looks like. From the lot of the ironworkers I came to know, I made friends with the best of the finest men that ever existed. Although I was not aware at the time, two of them were father substitutes to me, and if not for them, I don't think I could have survived and I certainly would not be who I am today, nor could I now have such truly awesome memories of those times, their names was George Follett and Bill McPherson. I remember the faces of so many young men who started around the same time as I did, and many became very dear friends, and some would very quickly prove to be very talented. Paul Mitchell, was a natural born leader with a wonderful spirit, Leo Lake, a very good and intelligent man, Bernie Brothers, Bernie had a special talent that made him very unique to everyone who knew him, and he knew an awful lot of people. Bernie was very good at making people laugh, but one thing about Bernie that everybody knew, was that it was not a good idea to piss him off because he was not nice at all when he was pissed off. Gary Nichols, his main problem was that he was afraid of nothing, Real Ouellette, I swear its true, he was stronger than a horse, and a great guy, Mike Charbonneau, an extremely tough man who weight no more than 135 pounds, Leo Dee, just an absolutely great guy to hang out with, and I never could find a fucking thing wrong with this guy, and I tried because he had both a gorgeous wife and a beautiful daughter, and i often smiled at them when he was not looking. And there must be a hundred faces of ironworkers I consider were dear friends, and I cannot remember the names. About safety, working as an ironworker had become a lot safer than a decade or two earlier, an we had safety belts and hard hats and steel toe boots, but looking back, working safe had a long way to go, putting up a high rise without loosing an ironworker had become the norm, but still it was considered a lucky accomplishment not to loose a man on a major project, so even as most of us never got hurt, many did get hurt. Connectors did not wear safety belts and the reasoning was that it was safer that we should be able to get out of the way of fast swinging steel, and most of us like taking risks and ignore danger as if we were not even aware that there was any danger. it was common for many of us to carry a micky of rye during cold winter days, or be off to nearest pub at noon to down half a dozen drafts beer and be back on site no more than ten minutes late. and I think we were mostly very lucky, I know I was. Life was good, but it seam to me that we all lived hard lives, and in the end, I think it true that a combination of heavy smoking and alcohol, and an attitude of "I don't give a fuck", took the lives of more ironworkers that i knew, than anything else. It appear to me as clear enough that ironworkers took pride for being capable of doing work that many would consider too dangerous, and I am not sure, but I think that many needed to feel the danger and even seek to feel their own fear of dying, as a mean to find some kind of motivation, or as if for many the risk factor and danger was a mean they needed to appreciate life. I remember well, that more than once I heard an ironworker make this following claim, "Were all a bunch of fuck ups", and the relevant truth is that I don' think I have ever heard an ironworker, choose to do something wrong and justify or legitimize himself at the expense of somebody else. The thing you could count on when you made friends as iron workers, even though it was seldom mentioned if ever, is that respect was a very big deal. Once a bond had taken place between any two ironworkers, they could have a big fight, but still it was that no matter what, that you could count on him to have your back, if it became necessary. Even if he might say afterward. "I still don't fucking like you, and you deserve to have the shit kick out of you, and it might even have done you some good, so I don't know why I even bothered to step forth for you, I must have shit for brains". And the answer he might have got, "Ya, you do have shit for brains, don't you get it, that is why I have been putting up with your bull shit, even though I too don't like you at all, but I like your wife". That is nearly 60 year ago, and I don't think there is many of us left from those days. I am filled with gratitude for my life experiences and my fondest memories is from those days when I was an ironworker, and yes, it was a time when I was a little bit bad, but back then, it only was when i was at least a little bit bad that i had any fun at all. It appears to me that this is exactly what happens once being an ironworker is in your blood, and once it is in your blood, it will always remain a central part of you. I now take my pills every day to keep me alive, and I do the odd good deed to make sure the big Guy is not in too much of a hurry to take me out of here, and at the same time, to make sure the devil is not tempted at making anything bad happen to me, I have to make sure he remains convinced that I intend to fulfill my life long goal, which is to live to a hundred and five, and die in bed shot by a jealous husband. This requires me to at least be a little bit bad, and it still is the only time i have any fun, so I have acquire a new skill of being able to be very romantic with wealthy widows. Wish me luck please. I can't help but wonder, if there might be an old guy from those days who might read this and remember me.
I am applying to 721 next week. I read what you had to say. I was born and raised in the west end. Been doing labour and on union stuff. Ready to get after it. Thanks.
worked with ladies out of my hall they make me proud to see goals work ethics of ladies very impressive skillset proud to work with all of them great work
i had 3 teachers at george brown college, mr slaney, mr layton and mr richards, who worked with my father as an ironworker in elliot lake ontario in 1958. mr richards was the best
A good job has structure, content, meaning and power in the form of economic (pay) and education (apprenticeship) that's what this is. A good job. Hard on the body.
Aboriginals is a misnomer They are Originals... But it all goes along with the current culture which has transformed everything from what it really is into what it really isn't... We all know this to be self evident.
![PASULOL รามเกียรติ์ ตอนที่ 4 นนทกพบรัก [Ramakien Ep.4: Nonthok in love]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/tMUQgmZzf_A/mqdefault.jpg)
I joined ironworker local 721 in the early nineteen sixties, at a time when Blakie Boily was a business agent and the dispatcher at the upstairs office at 1604 Bloor street west. I remember him as a hard man who did not want anybody to know or even suspect that he had a heart of gold. It was just a short while before the erection of the first Toronto Dominion tower, and I remember looking down on the rest of the city. It think it really was the first modern sky scraper in Toronto, and maybe the last time a building was erected with the use of guide wire derricks.
To me, that was the start of the development in Toronto, and we could not then have imagine what the sky line of Toronto now looks like. From the lot of the ironworkers I came to know, I made friends with the best of the finest men that ever existed. Although I was not aware at the time, two of them were father substitutes to me, and if not for them, I don't think I could have survived and I certainly would not be who I am today, nor could I now have such truly awesome memories of those times, their names was George Follett and Bill McPherson.
I remember the faces of so many young men who started around the same time as I did, and many became very dear friends, and some would very quickly prove to be very talented. Paul Mitchell, was a natural born leader with a wonderful spirit, Leo Lake, a very good and intelligent man, Bernie Brothers, Bernie had a special talent that made him very unique to everyone who knew him, and he knew an awful lot of people. Bernie was very good at making people laugh, but one thing about Bernie that everybody knew, was that it was not a good idea to piss him off because he was not nice at all when he was pissed off. Gary Nichols, his main problem was that he was afraid of nothing, Real Ouellette, I swear its true, he was stronger than a horse, and a great guy, Mike Charbonneau, an extremely tough man who weight no more than 135 pounds, Leo Dee, just an absolutely great guy to hang out with, and I never could find a fucking thing wrong with this guy, and I tried because he had both a gorgeous wife and a beautiful daughter, and i often smiled at them when he was not looking. And there must be a hundred faces of ironworkers I consider were dear friends, and I cannot remember the names.
About safety, working as an ironworker had become a lot safer than a decade or two earlier, an we had safety belts and hard hats and steel toe boots, but looking back, working safe had a long way to go, putting up a high rise without loosing an ironworker had become the norm, but still it was considered a lucky accomplishment not to loose a man on a major project, so even as most of us never got hurt, many did get hurt. Connectors did not wear safety belts and the reasoning was that it was safer that we should be able to get out of the way of fast swinging steel, and most of us like taking risks and ignore danger as if we were not even aware that there was any danger. it was common for many of us to carry a micky of rye during cold winter days, or be off to nearest pub at noon to down half a dozen drafts beer and be back on site no more than ten minutes late. and I think we were mostly very lucky, I know I was. Life was good, but it seam to me that we all lived hard lives, and in the end, I think it true that a combination of heavy smoking and alcohol, and an attitude of "I don't give a fuck", took the lives of more ironworkers that i knew, than anything else.
It appear to me as clear enough that ironworkers took pride for being capable of doing work that many would consider too dangerous, and I am not sure, but I think that many needed to feel the danger and even seek to feel their own fear of dying, as a mean to find some kind of motivation, or as if for many the risk factor and danger was a mean they needed to appreciate life.
I remember well, that more than once I heard an ironworker make this following claim, "Were all a bunch of fuck ups", and the relevant truth is that I don' think I have ever heard an ironworker, choose to do something wrong and justify or legitimize himself at the expense of somebody else.
The thing you could count on when you made friends as iron workers, even though it was seldom mentioned if ever, is that respect was a very big deal. Once a bond had taken place between any two ironworkers, they could have a big fight, but still it was that no matter what, that you could count on him to have your back, if it became necessary. Even if he might say afterward. "I still don't fucking like you, and you deserve to have the shit kick out of you, and it might even have done you some good, so I don't know why I even bothered to step forth for you, I must have shit for brains". And the answer he might have got, "Ya, you do have shit for brains, don't you get it, that is why I have been putting up with your bull shit, even though I too don't like you at all, but I like your wife".
That is nearly 60 year ago, and I don't think there is many of us left from those days. I am filled with gratitude for my life experiences and my fondest memories is from those days when I was an ironworker, and yes, it was a time when I was a little bit bad, but back then, it only was when i was at least a little bit bad that i had any fun at all. It appears to me that this is exactly what happens once being an ironworker is in your blood, and once it is in your blood, it will always remain a central part of you.
I now take my pills every day to keep me alive, and I do the odd good deed to make sure the big Guy is not in too much of a hurry to take me out of here, and at the same time, to make sure the devil is not tempted at making anything bad happen to me, I have to make sure he remains convinced that I intend to fulfill my life long goal, which is to live to a hundred and five, and die in bed shot by a jealous husband. This requires me to at least be a little bit bad, and it still is the only time i have any fun, so I have acquire a new skill of being able to be very romantic with wealthy widows. Wish me luck please.
I can't help but wonder, if there might be an old guy from those days who might read this and remember me.
I am applying to 721 next week. I read what you had to say. I was born and raised in the west end. Been doing labour and on union stuff. Ready to get after it. Thanks.
worked with ladies out of my hall they make me proud to see goals work ethics of ladies very impressive skillset proud to work with all of them great work
Signed up with 721 this week for a massive career change! Loving the rodman life!
i had 3 teachers at george brown college, mr slaney, mr layton and mr richards, who worked with my father as an ironworker in elliot lake ontario in 1958. mr richards was the best
i went to george brown college for trade school as ironworker in 1975 and 76 in toronto. casaloma campus
Love my union local 29 union ironworkers work safe brothers.
The worst ever
I need a job
A good job has structure, content, meaning and power in the form of economic (pay) and education (apprenticeship) that's what this is. A good job. Hard on the body.
great work
Good job
721 here
A man is a
Man, cool
That's big
How do I get in? I do badly want to do this
do ironworkers steal Glaziers work?
When it goes above four floors. You Need a crane to set glass, I've done it a hundred time. RD retired JIW local 25 Detroit.
I heard that when it all started, only Native Indians would do that work, because of the danger
Aboriginals is a misnomer
They are Originals...
But it all goes along with the current culture which has transformed everything from what it really is into what it really isn't...
We all know this to be self evident.
I need a job Canada
hello
Stay in school kids
School is is a redundant
Unnecessary waste of time smd energy
Jobs blow
765 here