Men Going to Work

In Emporia, Kansas, July 10, 2025

I pulled into the Casey’s Convenience Store in Emporia, Kansas, at 4:45 a.m. yesterday. Annie and I were on our way to Albuquerque, New Mexico in response to a family tragedy, and all I’m going to say about that is to advise you to tell everyone you love how much you love them and hold them close when you do it.

The plan was for me to get gas and coffee while Annie packed up at our hotel across the street so we could get an early start. I noticed that a white Burlington, Northern and Santa Fe (BNSF) van was parked at a pump, waiting.

I didn’t think much about it, but when I tried to pump gas, the screen said something like “dispenser error,” and wouldn’t work.

I had no idea what that meant, and so I decided that I could at least get us coffee for now and we could get gas down the road. As I walked toward the door of the convenience store, another van pulled up, and several men dressed in orange reflective vests, cargo pants or jeans, and good work boots got out, and quickly walked into the store, laughing and telling each other stories. I followed them, and one held the door open for me. Two or three or more pickups and vans had meanwhile pulled up, and men started piling out, and I ended up holding the door for maybe 15 or 20 of them before they had all packed the store. All either nodded “thanks” to me or said “Thank you, sir.”

Black, brown, and white, the men acted like brothers, exchanging high fives and fist bumps. They were of all shapes and sizes and ages and the thin ones were ropey strong with thick forearm veins, and the bigger ones looked like they could lift the front end of an old VW bug to their waist.

These men weren’t carefully sculpted “pretty boy” gym strong, they had been hammered into being hard work strong by the nature of their work.

Their hands were all big, rough, calloused, and no amount of handwashing could handle the grease, oil, and grit that permeated their pours. I presumed that these men’s worked on tracks, signalling systems, were mechanics, or did some kind of skilled work that they believed accomplished something. That their work was critical to the work of the railroad.

Remember, it was 4:45 in the morning, and these men were excited to be going to work and to be with each other. To share jobs well done. The work they, and millions of others like them are doing is essential to maintaining our transportation system. Without them, our society would collapse.

I remember a similar feeling of comraderie and work satisfaction working construction with my Dad and his crew as a kid.

I wish I had taken a photo of the men swarming the interior of the Casey’s and the one cashier, but I didn’t.

After I held the door for the last man walking in, I saw that I would be about the 20th or more person in line to buy our coffees, closed the door, and decided to head back to the hotel. I could get coffee later.

I walked past the BNSF van that had had been parked at the pump when I had arrived as I made my way back to our car. A big man rolled down his window, and motioned for me to come over. I did.

He said, “Go ahead and go in—they’ll send you to the front of the line. You won’t have to wait.”

“Thanks,” I said, “but I wouldn’t want to do that. They’re working, and I’m just traveling.”

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Down the highway a couple of hours later I was talking to a custodian at a McDonalds. He had sweat on his brow, and I commented on how hard he was working and how busy the restaurant was. The staff behind the counter ranged from teenagers to men and women in their 60’s and the pace was frenetic. One teenager was getting scolded by a manager.

“It’s always busy,” the custodian told me. “We are understaffed because no one wants to work anymore.”

I hear this phrase often, and it has been part of the Trump Administrations rationale for reducing SNAP benefits, and for kicking people off of Medicaid, and demanding work requirements when the majority of people on Medicaid who aren’t disabled, in school, or are caregivers are already working.

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Despite what the custodian at the McDonalds told me, the American people are working. Our unemployment rate is 4.1%. We want to work. But we want work that provides us a living wage so that we can support our family, and where we are respected for what we do.

Last night, I went to the BNSF webpage and saw that the company offered a 401 (k) and a railroad retirement annuity, medical, dental, and vision insurance. Members may belong to a union if they wish.

I went to Indeed.com and found some salary information for rail technicians, which is a guess for what the men do. The average salary for these workers is $37.15 an hour, with a low of $18.60, and a high of $55.95 per hour. A heavy equipment mechanic can make over $100,000 a year.

Indeed.com tells me that most workers at McDonalds only make between $14 and $15 dollars per hour.

A 2020 study shows that Walmart and McDonalds have the most employees on SNAP and Medicaid among our leading corporations. The American people are subsidizing these corporations while their workers can’t make a living wage. It’s unconscionable.

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In a March, 2025 article, the New York Times shares how the rich are getting richer and the bottom 50% of Americans are being screwed.

BNSF, at least from what I see, offers a living wage with good benefits, while a great many other corporations are exploiting their workers.

I’m sure there are valid criticisms of BNSF, but the men I saw in Emporia, Kansas enjoy their work because there is a positive work culture, and they enjoy being with friends and doing important work. They make a living wage and have good benefits. I suspect the union plays a strong role in helping with salary and benefits.

It’s the nature of unrestrained capitalism to be exploitive of labor and smart government oversight is needed, but it’s not going to be seen in the Trump administration. Something is going to break.

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This story found me yesterday and demanded to be told, and so as Annie and I sat and waited for a couple of hours at the airport for other family members to arrive last night, I asked he if she minded if I wrote it. She said something like “I think that’s exactly what you should do.”

Given the short time frame I had to work with, it could be better researched and it’s too clunky, but here we are.

Now please go tell those you love how much you care for them, and hold their warm and tender hands in your own, gently.

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Saturday, July 26

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