The man who taught me to weld

I didn't want to hijack Alan K's post regarding what your dad taught you about welding, but the question brought a good friend to mind who I lost recently.

My father knew nothing about welding, I learned to weld in my friend Paul's shop. Paul was my fishing buddy's dad. Their house is half a mile up the road.

I've talked about him here in the past, usually when the subject of farm safety comes up. Paul grew up in town here with foster parents, then went into the army for four years out of high school. When he got out of the army he came back to town and was helping somebody chop corn. The weather had knocked the corn down, and it wasn't feeding very well into the machine. Paul tried helping by standing the stalks up to feed better.

That high-risk move changed the course of his life drastically. Something caught his arm and he got dragged into the chopper. It removed both his arms and half his face and scalp. He also lost an eye.

He shouldn't have survived the accident, but he did. He spent a long time in the hospital. At one point he had his Last Rites read to him. But he was a tough )#$#rd. He pulled through, and spent years recovering.

He went on to live a fairly normal life. He married, had a son, built his metal working shop doing wrought iron railings/gates. Anybody with equipment that needed welding brought it to Paul.

Any time I brought something to him to be welded, I'd insist on paying him but he would flat out refuse it. The best I could do is stock the fridge in his shop with some beer when he wasn't looking. I was far from the only one who couldn't pay him.

He had prosthetic hooks - and you'd be absolutely amazed to see what he could do with them.

I could sit in that shop all day watching him work and listening to him argue with his son. As talented as Paul was with his hooks, there were somethings that were just impossible for him, and that's where his son came in. They had a relationship that I don't think most people can even understand. Bill wasn't just his son, he acted as his hands. They were a team like no other I can think of.

But good god they'd fight. They'd be laughing and joking one minute, something would go wrong, the tension would build. Paul was very hard to understand because of his injuries, and Bill is very hard of hearing from growing up in a metal shop... A bad mix. Suddenly WWIII would break out and they'd be screaming at each other, each ready to kill. Two minutes later they'd be laughing and joking again.

On more than one occasion I've seen Bill get so p'd off he'd weld one of Paul's hooks to the welding table. It was always a show.

But even with all the outbursts, Paul was the kindest man I know. He never forgot his accident. He had some serious bouts of depression over the years, and understandably so. But when you put yourself in his position, it's easy to think about how miserable you could be if dealt the same cards.

He was often sad and frustrated by it, but he never took it out on anybody else. He'd give you the shirt off his back, and was so good with young kids he could get them past the shock of seeing him in an instant.

I could write for hours about the man, but this isn't really the place. I just wanted to acknowledge him now that I'm thinking about him. He was a good man, and he deserves to have something nice said about him somewhere, so there you have it.

He passed away a few months ago from lung cancer at the age of 76.

I learned a hell of a lot more than welding from him.

He sounds like a heck of a man.
Thanks for sharing.

Larry

That would be a tuff way to live, I can't imagine loosing both hands..

He deserves his own post. Thank you for sharing. He sounds like quite a man, one deserving of a lot of respect. They don't make them like that anymore.

Nice story those are great memories you have, you were lucky to have meant and
be able to call this strong willed man a friend and neighbor.

Arguing must be abway of life in avwelding shop. A guy name John taught me to weld. Much like your friend he was the greatest guy, we were best of friends for nearly 30 years til he passed a couple years ago. We worked together great, but oh the arguments we would have! They were split about even between how to do a project and politics. Lol We would argue half the day, but it never stopped progress. I often think back and wonder how we stayed so close, but then there really was little difference in how we truely felt about things, just how we went about getting there.

I designed a lightweight lamp that I made out of 1/2" PVC pipe. Posted an ad on the supermarket sale to sell the surplus table lamps. Fellow called and I told him to come and look at them. It turned out that he was blind, but had driven his car to our house with the guidance of his 11-year-old adopted daughter. He also had a 7-year-old girl that he had adopted. He was a professor at the local college.

The oldest girl was really smart. She described the lamps to him and how they wouldn't break if they were knocked off the table, which he had a habit of doing. He bought two of the lamps for the girls to use; pulled out his checkbook and the girl put the pen on the line for him to fill in the amount and then to sign the check. He never looked at the checkbook when he wrote the check; I thought that he had partial sight because he drove, but he did not. Those girls were his caretakers; they knew how to take care of him and he did everything that he could to give them a good home. Life has many challenges but some people make the best of things and find ways to make their own living.

My Dad and I work kind of like that. Neighbors acrossed the road said they could here us yelling !
There was a fellow by me who had one arm with a hook. Think maybe his right one ? He used to run 2 cyl. with the hand clutch somehow ?
And in honor of the joking part of their relationship admittedly I could not help but chuckle at the part of welding his hooks to the table.
I'm glad you told us about this fellow. Sounds like his shop was a good place to hang out. Makes me wish I had met him.

You need to put this down in the Memorials Forum so it will be seen for along time.

Thanks, I never realized there was such a forum.

It seems to me you had a really amazing friend. Good post!

And if you think HE's amazing - you should meet his wife Mary! Married to him longer than I've been alive.

I say that in a half joking way, because she certainly has put up with a lot. But in all seriousness, you could not meet a sweeter, more eternally optimistic, hard working, constantly smiling, saint of a woman if you searched the earth for 100 years.

For all that cursed Paul, I like to think it was offset by the blessing of having his wife Mary in his life.

Always good to read about people who don't let adversity stop them, as opposed to those quitters who give up before they even get started. I can't imagine living without my hands, and I don't know how guys such as this do it. I can't imagine how they....well, you know.

What a wonderful man! I love reading stories like this and feel blessed to know that there are poeple like this in our world as well as the folks that love and respect them. Glad you posted this! We have a lot to learn from folks like this.

What a man he was.

thanks for sharing it.you dont read about storys like that everyday he sure was a special man thats for sure.
RICK

Great post. Sounds like he was quite a guy.

He was dealt 'aces & eights' and turned them into a full house (aces high). Quite a story and quite an amazing man. Thank you for sharing this story.

There's a heck of a man.

A friend of mine's dad was the same, had hooks for hands. Don't remember how he lost his, probably in a corn picker. He was a farmer, farmed with John Deere 2 cylinder tractors. I was impressed how he modified everything so that he could use it, especially by welding. He made steering wheel spinners by welding a large washer on them, so he could put his hook in them to steer. Also had the washers welded on the clutch levers. Had a large beef operation.