"Yeah. You know, I feel like ... never mind. What about the burial
transformers, you get on it yet?"
"The ones we're running in the water mains for cooling? They're out of
warranty. None of the local shops can rewind them until the
manufacturer sends out a field engineer to set them up for the
encapsulation process."
"How long is that going to take?" Forester asked.
"They tell me several months. Still doesn't leave us with anything.
The plant says they've fixed the trouble, but between them and the
rewind shop, they can buck it back and forth forever."
"I guess we'll have to go back to the pad-mounted type."
"People with the Gold Medallion Homes aren't going to like the pads by
their barbecues."
Forester uncoiled a leg. "Draw up a memorandum on it, will you,
Eddie?" He stood up. "That thing sure got me today. There's just
entirely too many of these accidents. A ladder breaking. I don't
know."
Eddie tried to find something intelligent to say. Finally he said, "It
was a rough one, all right."
* * * * *
After Forester left, Eddie picked up, listlessly from the top of the
stack one of the preliminary reports submitted for his approval.
The report dealt with three thousand capacitors purchased last year
from an Eastern firm, now bankrupt. The capacitors were beginning to
leak. Eddie called the electrical laboratory to see what progress was
being made on the problem.
The supervisor refreshed his memory from the records. He reported: "I
don't have any adhesive man to work on it. Purchasing has half a dozen
suppliers lined up--but none have any test data. I don't know when
we'll get the time. We're on a priority program checking out these
new, low-cost terminations."
"Can't we certify the adhesive to some AIEE spec or something?" Eddie
asked.
"I don't know of any for sealing capacitors, Eddie. Not on the
maintenance end, at least."
"Maybe Purchasing can get a guarantee from one of the suppliers?"
"For the hundred dollars of compound that's involved? What good would
that do us?"
Eddie thanked him and hung up. He signed the preliminary report.
He turned to the next one.
At 2:30 Forester came by and the two of them made their way between
the jig-saw projections of maple and mahogany to the Conference Room.
Fourteen men were involved in the conference, all from operating
departments. They shuffled in over a five minute period, found seats,
lit cigarettes, talked and joked with one another.
When one of the assistants to the manager came in, they fell silent.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I think I'd better get right to the point
today. The Construction Program in the Valley has now used up two bond
issues. The voters aren't going to approve a third one."
He paused for effect then continued briskly:
"I see by the morning's _Times_ that the mayor is appointing a
watch-dog commission. I guess you all saw it, too. The Department of
Water and Power of the City of Los Angeles is going to be badly--and I
mean badly--in the red at the end of the fiscal year.
"We're in hot water.
"We do not seem to be getting through to the operating departments
regarding the necessity for cost reduction. I have here last month's
breakdown on the Bunker Hill substation 115 KV installation. Most of
you have seen it already, I think. I had it sent around. Now--"
The analysis continued for some ten minutes to conclude with an
explosion:
"We've got to impose a ten per cent across the board cut on operating
expenses."
One of the listeners, more alert than the rest, asked, "That go for
salaries?"
"For personnel making more than eight hundred dollars a month it
does."
There was a moment of shocked silence.
"You can't make that stick," one of the supervisors said. "Half my
best men will be out tomorrow looking for better offers--and finding
them, too."
"I'm just passing on what I was told."
The men in the room shuffled and muttered under their breaths.
"O.K., that's the way they want it," one of the supervisors said.
"I've brought along the notices for the affected personnel. Please see
they're distributed when you leave."
After the meeting, Forester walked with Eddie back to his desk.
"You be in tomorrow, Eddie?"
"I guess I will, Les. I really don't know, yet."
"I'd hate to lose you."
"It's going to make it pretty rough. A man's fixed expenses don't come
down."
"I'll see what I can do for you, maybe upgrade the classification--"
"Thanks, Les."
Back at his desk, Eddie looked at his watch. Nearly time for the
Safety Meeting. Lost-time injuries had been climbing for the last four
months.
While waiting, he signed a sixty-three page preliminary report
recommending a program for the orderly replacement of all transmission
and distribution cable installed prior to 1946. It was estimated that
the savings, in the long run, would total some quarter of a billion
dollars. The initial expense, however, was astronomical.
After the Safety Meeting, Eddie prepared another memorandum indicating
the acute need for a better training program and an increase in
maintenance personnel. Shortage of qualified technicians was chronic.
At four twenty-five, the night supervisor phoned in to say he was
having engine trouble with his new car and would be delayed until
about six o'clock. Eddie agreed to wait for him.
Eddie dialed home to let his wife, Lois, know he would be late again.
A modulated low-frequency note told him the home phone was out of
order.
Ray Morely, one of the night-shift engineers, came in with coffee.
"You still here, Eddie?"
"Yeah, until Wheeler makes it. His car's down."
"Market hit a new high."
"Yeah. I guess you heard about the meeting today?"
Ray sipped coffee. "Budget again? I missed the day crew. I got hung up
in traffic and was a little late."
"A pay cut goes with it, this time."
"You're kidding?"
"Been by your desk yet?"
"No."
"I'm not kidding. Ten per cent for those making above eight hundred."
"Nobody's going to put up with that," Ray said. "We're in an engineering
shortage. We've got ICBMs rusting in their silos all over the country
because we can't afford the engineering maintenance--that's how bad it is.
Everybody'll quit."
"I don't think they'll make it stick. Ramon Lopez, one of the truck
crew, was killed today hosing down a high-voltage pothead."
"No kidding?"
Eddie told him about the accident.
"That was a rough one to lose, wasn't it?"
The phone rang.