When I first saw William, I thought he had been hit by a truck.
He was being smart, the kind of smart that comes from years of Midway experience. He and his co-workers knew to rest in the shade of the trucks until the ‘boss comes and we can set this ride up. It’ll be up in about 2 hours,” he said with pride. William is originally from 1900 family acres in Montana, but now lives in Waxahachie, TX, a town that both of us had trouble spelling so we settled on Dallas/Ft. Worth. He left Montana when the government closed the oil rights on their property.
I asked William how he lost the top half of his fingers on his right hand, assuming it was a work-related injury from his years of hands-on labor. “I was born this way. But it hasn’t stopped me.” He then proceeded to list all the jobs he could do, from driving the big rigs to fixing the small bulbs. Those hands were still working when I returned to the Midway hours later at dusk. The ride that was supposed to take two hours to set up had to have all the seats removed and some key parts replaced. “Being extra safe,” said William.
I promised William I’d bring prints of him later in the week. “I’ll be working the bumper cars on the Kidway,” he said with the same pride he had for all ‘his’ rides. He asked how much the prints were. Nothing; my thanks to him. His thanks to me? I got a free ride on the kiddie bumper cars.
That’s my kind of ride, the kind that gives me thrills: that great circle of energy where we give what we can – and what we love – to give.
And on the circuit that is William from Waxahachie’s life the next stop is home, The Dallas State Fair. There, at the grand finale of the midway worker’s season, he’ll work from dawn to midnight for close to 4 weeks.
“I wouldn’t still be doing it if I didn’t enjoy it.”