(c) 2010 Lydia Hinshaw
Prince Charming heads down the trail toward the Lodge
Clearing snow from a golf cart
It was a cold night for this youth group NORTH RIM, AZ -- We shouldn't have been surprised, because this possibility was forecast, but still it was startling to look out our window Monday morning and see the ground covered with snow.
The temperature on our windowsill was 31 degrees. Since we both had the day off, we toured the property, heading down to the lodge, where employees were busy with extra snow-induced duties.
Later, at the general store, we watched shivering teenagers huddled over coffee and hot chocolate after a night in tents at the campground nearby.
Sunday had proved an interesting day too. I was off, and about to commence an afternoon nap when one of my bosses knocked on my door. She needed someone to transport an ex-employee to Page, and I was the driver available.
This sort of thing happens often in seasonal work. An employee, for one reason or another, simply doesn't work out.
In the case of Derwood (not his real name), the reason was alcohol. Derwood is an approximately 400-pound Native American who is pleasant and friendly when he's sober, but surly and obnoxious when he's not.
Security staff and NPS law enforcement rangers had become regular visitors to Derwood's dorm room, as he was constantly in loud disagreement with his much smaller, and equally drunk, roommate. I'm not sure whether the pair of them were fired or quit, but they both had to go. And apparently it was not considered a good idea to send them off the property in the same vehicle, or to deposit them in the small town of Page at the same time.
So a fellow driver left in the morning with the smaller man, and I set out with Derwood about 1:30, but not before I'd been asked if I wanted an escort (bodyguard) to go along. I declined. I'd spoken to Derwood on several occasions on the employee shuttle, and he had never been anything but a gentleman. And even at nearly 60, I can move faster than someone that big.
So off we went. Derwood slept part of the way but he was obviously uncomfortable since the van and the seat-restraint were not designed for a man of his size. We small-talked about his home in Monument Valley.
When we got to Page, a bit over two hours later, he asked me to let him off at the Safeway, where he could call his cousin who lives in Page, and she could come pick him up. I left him there with all his belongings. I did not see him make any move toward the pay phone. I am not sure that the cousin even existed.
Later, I compared notes with my colleague who had taken Derwood's roommate to Page earlier in the day. They had wandered around to several motels but could not find one that the ex-employee could afford.
They'd searched for a homeless shelter, but Page evidently doesn't have one. Finally, they located a de-tox center where the man could get a room for the night.
So both of us drivers were safe back here, and both of the troublemakers were in the same small town. My fellow driver and I couldn't help but wonder if the two of them would meet again, in the de-tox center or perhaps in the local drunk tank.
At least they were not our problem anymore.
I drove back from Page, in blowing snow the last 40 miles, arriving at 7:02 p.m., two minutes after the employee dining room closed. Fortunately I knew the cook on duty, a fellow I met lifting weights in our drafty, bleak exercise room.
He let me get something to eat and even fixed me a special order of garlic bread.
It wasn't the day off I was expecting, but hey, I didn't come here to be bored.
The temperature on our windowsill was 31 degrees. Since we both had the day off, we toured the property, heading down to the lodge, where employees were busy with extra snow-induced duties.
Later, at the general store, we watched shivering teenagers huddled over coffee and hot chocolate after a night in tents at the campground nearby.
Sunday had proved an interesting day too. I was off, and about to commence an afternoon nap when one of my bosses knocked on my door. She needed someone to transport an ex-employee to Page, and I was the driver available.
This sort of thing happens often in seasonal work. An employee, for one reason or another, simply doesn't work out.
In the case of Derwood (not his real name), the reason was alcohol. Derwood is an approximately 400-pound Native American who is pleasant and friendly when he's sober, but surly and obnoxious when he's not.
Security staff and NPS law enforcement rangers had become regular visitors to Derwood's dorm room, as he was constantly in loud disagreement with his much smaller, and equally drunk, roommate. I'm not sure whether the pair of them were fired or quit, but they both had to go. And apparently it was not considered a good idea to send them off the property in the same vehicle, or to deposit them in the small town of Page at the same time.
So a fellow driver left in the morning with the smaller man, and I set out with Derwood about 1:30, but not before I'd been asked if I wanted an escort (bodyguard) to go along. I declined. I'd spoken to Derwood on several occasions on the employee shuttle, and he had never been anything but a gentleman. And even at nearly 60, I can move faster than someone that big.
So off we went. Derwood slept part of the way but he was obviously uncomfortable since the van and the seat-restraint were not designed for a man of his size. We small-talked about his home in Monument Valley.
When we got to Page, a bit over two hours later, he asked me to let him off at the Safeway, where he could call his cousin who lives in Page, and she could come pick him up. I left him there with all his belongings. I did not see him make any move toward the pay phone. I am not sure that the cousin even existed.
Later, I compared notes with my colleague who had taken Derwood's roommate to Page earlier in the day. They had wandered around to several motels but could not find one that the ex-employee could afford.
They'd searched for a homeless shelter, but Page evidently doesn't have one. Finally, they located a de-tox center where the man could get a room for the night.
So both of us drivers were safe back here, and both of the troublemakers were in the same small town. My fellow driver and I couldn't help but wonder if the two of them would meet again, in the de-tox center or perhaps in the local drunk tank.
At least they were not our problem anymore.
I drove back from Page, in blowing snow the last 40 miles, arriving at 7:02 p.m., two minutes after the employee dining room closed. Fortunately I knew the cook on duty, a fellow I met lifting weights in our drafty, bleak exercise room.
He let me get something to eat and even fixed me a special order of garlic bread.
It wasn't the day off I was expecting, but hey, I didn't come here to be bored.
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