Big Brain Time

There was a super-secret ingredient in the bait products. We were forbidden from naming or discussing it; if our competitors knew about it, it would be a really big, bad thing. However, they never had anyone sign an NDA, so I'm less inclined to secrecy.

There were three stainless steel tanks, which kept this ground-up secret ingredient. These were massive tanks. I'm talking thirty feet tall, probably 15,000-20,000 gallons each. We would get truckloads of pallets full of 30lb frozen blocks and fill up our freezer with them. Throughout the year, when needed, we would grind.

Grinding was when we filled up the tanks again. To do so, we'd have to pull out about 10 pallets the day before, about 8 tons worth. We'd have to re-stack each pallet, putting plastic slats between each row, and then setting the pallets in front of giant fans to help them thaw overnight.

The next morning, we'd move the grinding equipment in place. This was a very tedious task that involved placing the grinding equipment, two multi-ton giant pieces of machinery, precisely in place via forklift while another person spotted it. Once it was all set up, we'd start the grinder, which fed a mixer, which fed directly into the main pump, which pumped it into the tank.

We'd load the grinder tray with two of the 30lb blocks at a time. The tray would be hydraulically lifted and the semi-frozen blocks then dumped into the grinder, which would chip it into the mixer. Since the secret ingredient was still very cold, the tanks had tubes of hot water inside that would circulate, and they also had an agitator that would have to be turned on prior, all to keep it from re-freezing from the pressure.

We would start at 6:00am. There were 12-13 pallets to go through, each with about 70 boxes on them. The goal was to have them all ground by 11am, at which point we'd take out a half-hour lunch. Afterward, it was time to clean all of the equipment.

I believe I did my first grind when I was 14, the same year I started working full-time in the summers. At that age, I think most kids are not thinking about their hearing, and I certainly wasn't. Over the years I did hundreds of grinds without earplugs or anything; lots of times I would have cheap earbuds in blasting metal at full volume on top of it.

Sweet summer child

Growing up, summer sucked ass and balls. Summer meant nothing but awful work, surrounded by not-great people, in a hot building. Days started with waking up at 5AM and riding to work with my father. Calling it a "summer" is not quite accurate, as it was not the typical summer that grade-school children would have. Instead, it was March-October to fit the family company's "busy" season.

Working there meant long hours in a less-than-desirable working environment. It also meant minimum wage. It was the kind of job that many people would not want to work at if they could help it, so generally the people who did want to work there either couldn't get anything better or didn't know what they were getting into. Many of them were drug addicts, convicted felons, or people with various mental (and sometimes physical) disabilities. Not everyone of course; over the years there were a few outliers that were legitimately good people and good workers that I remember.

However, very few people ever lasted more than a few months, let alone into the following year. There were a couple of reasons for this:

• The reality of the job was not what they were told (probably half would quit the first week)
• They weren't making enough money for the work (a fair amount)
• They were arrested (once a year or so)
• They died (happened a few times)
• They were deported (my family would occasionally hire people that were here illegally)
• They were let go at the end of the summer (happened to 99.99% that lasted that long)

When I was 14, the hiring became cyclical. Starting in about March my family hangs out their "NOW HIRING" sign. When I was 14, the main production crew consisted of about eight people, all of whom were non-family (except my brother) and had been there for years. When I started, I got to do all the grunt work no one else wanted and made five bucks an hour.

Starting that summer, however, the long-term non-family employees started dwindling in numbers. By the time I turned 17 and my parents deemed me educated enough, I transitioned to full-time year-round employment, and there were only two non-family employees for the production crew left.

My little brother joined the full-time crew shortly after I did. I hadn't even realized this trend until several years after that point, but what happened was that as me and my brothers got older, we became the "core" production crew. They would hire 3-4 people to fill out the team for the busy season.

When I was 14, I wasn't thinking about anything besides how quickly the day would be over so I could play video games. By the time I was 18 however, the disillusion was starting to hit me pretty hard. Not only was I expected to move at full blast at all times, but I was also expected to squeeze out as much productivity as possible from all new hires. I was responsible for training them in all aspects of every job there, how to drive forklifts (what is this about forklift certification?), etc. I was also responsible for making sure they showed up on time, handling any requests for time off (i.e. telling them no), handling any employee disputes, and so on. If they were ever seen not looking busy or productive, my father would directly threaten me with firing them since I couldn't keep them busy, leaving me to fulfill the same expected workload without the extra help.

For all intents and purposes, I was expected to be their manager, which was another thing that took me a long time to realize. That role started shifting away from my father and onto my shoulders when I was 15.

Until recently, I'd always hated summer. March/April was my least favorite time of year. When it started getting cold and dreary outside meant that it was going to be bearable at work again for a little while - I could look forward to it not being miserably hot, only working 8-hour days, and not having to deal with the meat-grinder for new hires we'd become.

Pre-Teen Summers

Some of my earliest memories are of helping my parents put together various products for the company. They would bring home the bulk materials for us all to assemble after work for some extra money. This was just part of the evenings; time to put on money and tie some fish hooks.

When I was around 9 the next new product that my father pitched to the big stores was catfish kits - complete with three catfish baits, two types of tied hooks, weights, swivels, bobbers, and a stringer. These were hand-assembled of course, and when it launched we had to make thousands of them every week. As part of my homeschooling curriculum, we would spend a few hours a day making kits at home. We also spent another few hours making kits in the evening.

I did that for the few years between when the kids launched and I started working full-time in the summer. For those few years, I would get to pick out a video game at the end of the summer. That was roughly 25¢ an hour.