SHAKE OUT AND SHOOK UP

by: Debra Murrell

“Hey Sig, you and Debbie go out to coal handling and check out his call about a leak in the piping in the shake out.”

“Come on, Deb. Let’s go.”

We get in the truck and drive out to the coalfield where the shake out is located. The shake out is a building open on two sides where railroad cars full of coal are driven in. There’s an operator who opens up doors underneath the box car , and the coal is dropped onto a conveyor.

We get to the shakeout and it’s completely quiet around there. Usually it’s really noisy because this top mechanism comes down on top of the boxcar and it has vibrators that shake the coal completely out of the cars. Ain’t nobody around. 

“You go over to the booth and see if the operator’s in there, Deb.”

“Okay,” I say as I walk down to the empty booth. “Hey, Sig, ain’t nobody home.”

We start looking for the leak. And when you look you use your eyes, ears and hands.

We can’t find one.

“You see a leak anywhere?”

“Nope, do you? I don’t hear nothin’.” I’m running my hands on the pipe that’s supposed to be leaking. Sometimes you can’t see a leak, but you can feel it. 

“Ain’t no leak on this pipe. Let’s go back to the shop.”

All of a sudden this deafening roar explodes in my ears. The build starts shaking and I gotta get out there. I gotta get out of there or I’m gonna die! I’m gonna get crushed. Everything is falling. The building is caving in. Just as soon as the roaring started, it ceased.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Deb. It’s all right. We’re okay.”

I seem to be coming out of a fog. I look around and I’m in the shake out building in coal handling and Sig is patting my back. Patting my back?! What the hell?! How did my hands get wrapped around his hard hat? And why am I two feet taller than he is?

“It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. I looked down and my left foot is planted above Sig’s right knee and my right foot is digging into his left upper thigh.

I had climbed him like a tree.

“Oh, my God. I am so embarrassed.”

I start to dismount Sig. He braces himself until we have no physical contact whatsoever. I guess my embarrassment is showing in my face. If I’d have been white, I’d have turned red.

Sig says, “Don’t feel bad. It scared me too! Hey, this is just between me and you.”

I agreed and we get back in the truck.

I am thinking, damn, Sig must be in good shape to hold me, my metatarsals and all my gear on. Damn, damn he’s gotta be in good shape. Sig is about 5’8 or 5’9”, and he is kind of stocky. He don’t look like he works out though. 

We get back to the shop and the guys are dealing ‘em. I look at Sig and he starts smiling, then he busts out laughing. He starts to tell them what happened on the job. 

“She climbed me like a freakin' tree, man! She was on top of my head!”

He looks at me and says, “You know you climbed me like a tree.”