Where have all the jobs gone?
In the paper this morning, there was a listing of the top 10 jobs that are on the decline. Today is Labor Day in the US, our annual holiday at the end of summer when we celebrate the workers that make our world go and keep the economy strong. Many countries have similar days to celebrate their workers and the jobs they do.
Nothing stays the same. Labor and jobs and work have changed greatly since 1887 when President Grover Cleveland formally established the US Labor Day as the first Monday in September. Change is to be expected. Jobs rise and fall with new products and technologies, with new demands and wants, and with the fading and waning of old attachments. Such is the nature of the human economic condition.
We need fewer mail carriers (#1 decline), because there is less mail to carry. More travels electronically. I love the scene in the original 1947 movie “Miracle on 34th Street” when Santa Claus is on trial because he can’t exist and the workers in the New York mailroom decide to deliver the children’s letters to prove that Santa must exist. The US Postal Service and its mail carriers pile the bags into the courtroom. Lifting his relieved head through the mounds of letters, the judge pounds the gavel and announces to the cheering citizens outside and the world that “Santa Claus does exist!” I believe and have ever since. Have no fear, Santa will continue, but the mail carriers have no such compelling argument.
It was 1955. Pete Seeger had just read a long novel about Russia. Across the pages, young Cossack men ride off to join the army. Drifting back to the songwriter is their youthful tune about flowers, young girls, marriage and becoming soldiers. Something timeless, sad and true floated in that air. Pete grabbed his notebook and scribbled “long time passing” and “When will we ever learn?” A new song emerged in his head. When the young Seeger shared the lyrics at a local college, a student, Joe Hickerson, added two final verses about graveyards and the flowers rising above the graves. The lines circled back to the blooms at their beginning.
Let me share the verses that circled back to me as I read of the losses this Labor Day:
“Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing?
“Young girls have picked them everyone
“Where have all the young girls gone, long time passing”
“Gone for husbands everyone
“Where have all the husbands gone, long time passing?
“Gone for soldiers everyone
“Where have all the soldiers gone, long time passing?
“Gone to graveyards, everyone
“Where have all the graveyards gone, long time passing?”
“Gone to flowers, everyone
“Oh, when will they ever learn?
“Oh, when will they ever learn?”
I have a brother-in-law who returned from Vietnam. Many young men did not. After that, he settled down and became a mail carrier. I have always thought he sought the quiet of the day and the peace of the walk. He is a good husband and father, and he and my sister are approaching retirement. His job has remained. It was, I think, his safe haven after the storm.
Other jobs are on the list, but his was the one that struck me most. I realized it wasn’t the job that had mattered in his life, it was what he brought back and how he used those experiences. For such men, there will always be work, family and a future. For the others, I will take the long walk up the hill and kneel near the flowers.
Where have all the young men gone, long time passing?
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?
Grandpa Jim