The scrap yard they frequented was owned by an old gentleman. When Dad would go to put the drum on the scale the old man would ask him, "Young man, is that copper from the top all the way to the bottom?" He would motion with an upward pointer at the beginning, turning it down until he was pointing at the floor when he finished his question.
"Yes, sir," me Pops would always answer. He would add, "I can dump it onto the floor to show you."
Holding the palm of his left hand as though to stop Dad in his tracks the man would reply, "Your word is enough."
This happened every time, me Pops often related, that he took copper out to scrap. "Young man, is that copper from the top all the way to the bottom?" "Your word is enough."
Dad wondered if perhaps it was some form of ritual, simple habit, or the owner's way of letting you know that he trusted you while being sure of what he was getting. Or maybe he simply believed in believing in people.
Well, a man's word should be his bond, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment