Craven de Kere wrote:Say it here dammit!
Your board Craven...
Your beach, your wave.
I was just trying to avoid grossing out everyone and I wasn't sure how 'The management' would take it.
OK, for several months, I was a gravedigger here in Florida. Now I know that doesn't sound too bad, but to understand the nature of the job you have to understand several important facts;
1) The 'new guy' (that was me in this case) gets all the crappy jobs.
2) The water table in the area is very high. (if you dig down more than 2 feet, you hit water.)
3) 'Potters Field' is the place where they bury all the homeless, transients and those unable to pay for a proper burial.
4) The people who get buried in 'Potters Field' are usually improperly imbalmed and placed in damaged or irregular vaults in what amounts to 'cardboard' caskets.'
5) When a new grave is dug, someone (the new guy) has to take a shovel and jump in the hole to level the bottom and trim the edges of the hole.
So imagine if you will, getting in a hole 6 feet deep, wearing hip waders (rubberized boots that go to your chest) standing in 4 feet of water that consists of 90% water and 10% liquefied human remains. You realize that the little yellow dots that you see floating in the water are not pieces of leaves, but pieces of people. The smell is so foul that you can't even puke because your body doesn't want to take a deep breath afterward.
I cannot truly describe the odor (only those who have smelled the stench of death can truly understand it) Imagine standing in this and having to use the shovel to 'square out' the hole for the vault. This process can take from 10 to 20 minutes after the backhoe digs the initial hole.
The funny part was, the reason I quit that job was NOT that particular task. I quit after I assisted in my third baby funeral. The sight of those parents putting those little caskets into the ground was like a knife in my gut. The last straw was when we (my fellow gravediggers and I) had to take over the lowering of the casket (usually done by the father) when this huge gentleman who looked as if he could tear a tank in two, was crying so hard he couldn't lift the tiny casket.
I put in my notice that day.
The only upside from that experience is, no matter how sucky a job I have, I can do it with a smile because I had the
worst job ever