Pride

“This is a good place to show you,” Tom said as he pulled the car over on a very wide shoulder. The traffic lifted a fine mist from the wet pavement, and the car shook slightly as each passed. The windows began to steam. “We can’t see from in here. We’ll have to get out.”
Tommy and Beverly emerged, but Carrie complained, “I can’t get my hair wet or it will go all frizzy! Honestly, Grampa! I can see from inside.”
He pointed at the stream of cars sweeping around the curve, headlights making momentary beacons in the rain. “See that? Even fog won’t slow them down much. Look at the sloping. No hydroplaning. The water sheets off perfectly; the curve is safe at all speeds. This may be the most perfect piece of highway in the whole US of A!”
“You mean they gave you a medal or something for working on this highway?” Bev visibly shivered, inching towards shelter. He waved them into the car, opening the windows an inch or two to combat fogging.
Tommy said, “But Gramps, you weren’t the engineer on the project. You just followed the plans you were given.”
Tom countered, “Hey, somebody else writes the music, but when a rock star performs it, he gets the applause.”
“Did you get a raise?” Carrie’s voice showed some interest.
“No, it’s not about money.” He struggled to lay his thought as smoothly as he could lay concrete. “They opened it up with speeches in front of about 50 microphones. TV cameras going as the Governor cut the ribbon. Mine was one of the first cars to drive through.”
“Were you on TV?” Bev asked, stifling a yawn.
“They don’t put guys like me on TV, Doll. I just wanted you to see this highway. It’s real important to the city. It links the airport with the downtown interchange. People from out of town swoop right in.”
“Now can we go home?” Tommy’s hand went to his phone and the light went on.
Tom gave it one more try. “Look, you kids. I got to thinking about my grandpa, how, because I was one of the youngest, I thought of him as just a gardener and fix-it man. But he’d worked forty years for the railroad. Had a gold watch that said so! He’d tell me about the old days, but it was just stories to me.
“So I’m showing you. I went to work every day to build highways like this. Our crew got this highway in on budget and on time. I’ve walked every square foot of this road.”
“Yay, Grampa!” came a bored little voice from Carrie’s corner.
“Look at that sweep of concrete!” But they couldn’t see.

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