Workers in Santa Anita Wash Inspire Labor Day Thoughts

The symbolic end of summer is upon us. Not only must we pack away our white shoes, and greet the start of football season, in theory we all lay down our toil for one day.

Labor Day, the first Monday of September, became a national holiday in 1894, in honor of the workingmen of this country. It’s morphed into an egalitarian holiday for all; you don’t even have to have a job nowadays to celebrate. But if you do, and you take pride in your work, party on, Garth.

This week marked my return from a trip to Cuba. I toured farms and agricultural centers where working men and women toil mightily for their daily bread. Managing wastewater, refrigeration for storing produce and meats, too much sun and not enough water, all were concerns that similarly affect us in California. The trip reminded me that in all agricultural endeavors, as in life, there’s no such thing as easy pickings. So when my neighbor Marta suggested I write about hard work, the orchestral Labor Day choir hit the high notes in my mind’s ear.

To quote Marta’s email: “There is a team in the canyon up past Mary's Market today trimming all the overgrown plants, bundling the branches up in tarps…the size of a Mini Cooper, then balancing them on their heads while climbing 20 foot ladders up the sides of the creek. This is how the pyramids were created. Really hard work! I am amazed.”

Lured by this description, I zipped up the Canyon in search of the echo of Echo chain saws or rolling tarps disguised as tiny cars. It took a few passes and a detour to the First Water trailhead before finding the stealthy laborers. Their power trimmers were silent, resting next to pole trimmers and rakes in the Santa Anita Creek wash. The workers maneuvered on ladders to loosen rampant vines growing through the chain link barrier.

There are plenty of jokes about the credentials needed for yard work; the punch line is usually flip flops and a white truck. To which I say, you get what you pay for.

Happily, what I saw in the Canyon wash were trained landscaping pros. High five! In their PPEs (Personal Protective Equipment) – eye wear, gloves, reinforced shoes, long sleeved shirts, long pants, hats, day-glo vests – they practiced team safety and respected the neighborhood noise levels in the quiet Canyon as they performed their job.

I don’t know how many Mini Coopers of overgrowth this crew cut and hauled Thursday. Rough estimate: a lot. By 10:30 a.m. it was still relatively cool, possibly just shy of 80 degrees, pleasant enough. Later I mused at the car wash where, on a baking asphalt staging area, the workmen sweated as they mopped and shined a production line of cars. I imagined the farmers in tropical Latin American, and their agriculture brothers and sisters in Central California, Oregon, Michigan and Mexico, sweat rolling into their eyes as they harvest and transplant foods that these newly bathed vehicles will transport to our kitchen tables.

So, to the landscaping crew in the Canyon: good work! And workers of the world: thanks for all that hard labor. For roads and buildings, bridges, cars, cheeseburgers, computers, newspapers, cartoons, and yoga mats, thanks for every little thing we use each day.

On Monday, for those Americans fortunate enough to have a job to stay home from, the tomatoes and kohlrabi and basil and squash we’ve all labored to grow this summer will taste sweet next to corn, salad and burgers other’s hands have stretched and flexed to deliver. 

Happy Labor Day.