I have a funny story from back in the late 1950's or early 60's. I have a lot of funny stories about sno plowing, but this was (to me) a standout. I looked back into my computer records and only found short mention of the incident. The story below is mostly from memory, but it is the sort that I have told many times with no change. The ending is something i will always remember as long as i live. I will probably still be telling it when i get to those gates >>> whichever way i end up going. I hope it gives you FOGgers a laugh as well.
The phone was ringing as I walked into the kitchen. I had just gotten home from widening driveways. There was sno on the way and I needed to push back some of the snow banks from previous storms. I never charged for that part of my job as it was as much for my own convenience as for my customers. It made the job of clearing away the snow from the next storm a whole lot easier on my truck. As for me, I just enjoyed being out in the snow. I have to admit, it was even more fun when the money rolled in from all of my endeavores. My charges for normal snowstorms were, I believed, quite reasonable. I was charging for the original plow jobs. The cleaning up between storms was not something I was adding to the bill. I was usually slow in my day type job of masonry anyhow. I had to do something to get out of the house. My truck appreciated the extra work as the work of moving the next snow would be so much easier on transmission, engine, chains and all other moving, and even non moving parts. It just made a lot of sense all around, and especially in the customers’ eyes. They appreciated that I was doing my very best to keep their driveways opened thru storms of all sizes and conditions.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Tinker?” I heard from the other end of the line.
“Yes”
“I’m John Jones at 12 Valley Road and Ah want y’all ta quit plowin’ ma drahvway”
I asked what was wrong, as he sounded a little upset in the way he was presenting himself. “Well ah jes thinkin’ y’all chragin’ too much fer what y’all doin’” He continued, "I see y’all out heyah plowin’ all the time, an ah think y’all gettinn’ away with too much.”
I kept talking with him to find out what was really bugging him. I explained that I was only charging for the orignal plowing and the extra cleanup was to make it easier and less dangerous for the next storm. I had nthing to do and it made it a lot easier on my equipment. He kept on with expanding his original complaint, getting more and more irritated, AND irritating. I finally asked, “Mr. Jones, I can tell by your accent that you are not from anywhere near New England. You are certainly not from Connecticut.”
He indicated he was from Alabama. He had lived there all his life until his very recent move to ‘this God forsaken place.’
“Mr. Jones, I am sure you may not ever have even seen snow, certainly not anywhere near what you have seen around here.”
“Well ah maht not have seen snow, but I know a snow job when ah see one.”
I continued, “ Mr. Jones, I am taking into account that you really don’t understand what I have been doing and maybe you think you can do better. You don’t really have any idea of what is ahead for you, this winter, or any winter. I’ll accept that for your lack of experience. I am sure that, unless you find somebody else to do your plowing (sno blowers were not yet around), you will need my services somewhere along the way. If you get stuck, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I will be glad to help out.” With very little further conversation, we said our goodbyes and hung up.
That evening we had about 8”s of wet snow. A couple of days later, another 6”s. within a few days, we had about 15 or 16”s of very wet and heavy snow that changed to rain, settling the sno back to about 12”s on top of the two previous storms that week. That March turned out to be the snowiest month on record for many years until quite recently when we had not only the snowiest month, but the snowiest year (2010-2011 I believe). My Alabama friend had managed to pack the snow in his driveway and continued driving in and out, even tho there was a slight, and curvy incline from the roadway up to his garage. In the best of situations, the driveway was very deceptive, being a lot more difficult to plow than it appeared. I knew they were headed for a problem.
I had finished my route and had returned home for a bite to eat and some much needed rest when the phone rang. It was Mrs. Jones on the line and was hopeful that I could help her out. She was stuck in her driveway. I asked which end of the driveway was she stuck in. I was hoping she was either at the very top close to her garage, or at the very bottom where I could hook a chain to her bumper (in those days, bumpers were a little more solid than tissue paper) and snake her out. She said she was stuck half way up and could I please get her car out and to plow the whole driveway.
When I got to the house, I took one look and realized I would have a lot of problem. I took the time to put chains on all four wheels before attempting to do anything. I got her car out and driveway cleaned up, went home and made out a bill.
I thought I would have a little fun, expecting to get a real rebuffing when they got the bill. I really did not expect to be paid in full. I certainly did not really expect the reaction I received.
I had itemized the bill with full charges the same as I had billed each of his neighbors for the three storms of that week. A charge for extracting the car as if a wrecker had been called. Moving the car to the main street and returning to their garage when I finished. Extra for having to put on chains. Extra wear and tear on the truck for having to push extra high and heavily packed snow and an extra 15 dollar charge for the extra agrevation. That last charge was tacked on with the expectation that it would have been the last straw. They probably would only pay no more than half of my bill.
About three days later, I came home and saw an envelope on the kitchen table (the kitchen has always been my office. I like to eat while doing my bookkeeping :
:
) It’s contents made it appear a whole lot thicker than it would have been had there only been a check within. The return address made me think the worst, but I opened the envelope quickly to see what was to be said.
The note, and even tho much of above has not been repeated verbatim, I remember that note word for word. The note:
Dear Mr. Tinker
It sometimes takes us city folk a little time to become used to and to understand you country folks’ ways. My husband and I both think you are doing a wonderful job.
Please continue taking care of our driveway.
Thank you,
Mrs. Jones.
I still have that note tucked away somewhere in my old papers. I laughed for sometime afterwards. I knew the woman meant what she said. I had looked at the check she had sent. There was an extra ten dollars
over all that I had billed her.
It has been situations like this that have made sno plowing fun for so many years. it is not so much the operation itself, but the great people we meet along the way and the fun we have had with those people. That makes sno plowing out to be none work. And many great stories to relate.
Tinker
