STORIES / Okara’shòn:’a
Becoming an ironworker
A week before I turned 18 my father said, “I’m going to take you to work with me.” We got a ride down to New York and stayed at his apartment that was on the street next to Spar Bar in Brooklyn.
Big problem in Manhattan
My son and I had a talk on the way home that day about the sand running out of your hourglass. That event really drove home that you should never take life for granted because you just never know what can happen.
Broken Ankle wedding
On June 12, 1969, I broke my ankle on an ironwork job site in New York City. It was a Thursday and I was due to get married that Saturday.
Nevins street
We grew up in the Bronx. We didn’t live in Brooklyn because that’s where all the Mohawks lived. All the ironworkers.
The kind of work I do
My last iron job was in 2004 in Sorel. That was when I was having problems with my lower hernia. I had to have surgery.