Hans, His Place in Time

It was a factory job, my first job after the Army.

I was still a young man, only twenty-years old.

It was my first job, one of many in the years to

come. But how was I to know at the time. I pun-

ched in at the time clock every morning, 7:30 AM.

I stood in line with my co-workers to begin the day.

And one of the guys, the one in front of me was an

older man, Hans was his name. Hans, a foreign name.

He came from Germany years ago during the Second

World War. He was a young man too when he immi-

grated to the States. His accent was familiar to me for

I was stationed in Germany for two-and-a-half years

when I served. Years, we all tend to look at our lives

measured in years. We never start out saying, I’m

going to be married for fifty-years; I’m going to play

baseball for twenty; I’m going to keep this job for

15-years. No, it just sometimes seems to turn out that

way. Time, only convicts who are sentenced to so many

years in prison have some idea about the stretch of it in

front of them to serve. That is, unless they die or are

paroled along the way. Anyhow, one day, I asked the

guy behind me in the clock-out line how long Hans

had been working here at the factory?. Thirty-five

years, he told me. Damn, I said, that’s a hell of a long

time! I can’t see doing the same thing over and over

every day for that many years. Why, I haven’t even

been alive that long. Just imagine factory work, grind-

ing out parts day after day the same. And no recogni-

tion for all those parts out there in the world he must

have made. Hans was his name. I say that in honor of

him today more than fifty-years after my factory job

and the dozens which have followed. All I can claim is

that I have somehow manage to breathe in and out

with a measure of consistently. Who knows, Hans may

have set some kind of world-record for endurance or

production in his time. Of this I am sure, fifty-some years

later, and in my mind, Hans will remain at the head of the

line. And all the rest of us in our place and time continue

to follow way behind.

Chris Hanch 6-18-19