Once upon a time when I was studying the art of automotive
repair, there came a point when I realized that I was not as good working on
cars as I was working with people. This
is a very important event in my life that I wanted to share because it will help
put things in perspective for you down the road. It all started with a transmission, the 4th snap ring, and the only female teacher in the building, Ms. Lamasch.
I was in my automatic transmission class, assembling a GM
four speed, and was attempting to install the 4th snap ring of I
don’t remember how many. For those who
do not know what a snap ring is, basically it holds gears in place in the
transmission, and they are a pain in the ass to remove and install. Anyways, the ring got stuck, so I reach in to
try and jiggle into place when it popped, slamming a metal splinter deep into my
right middle finger. It was so deep that
the tip which was sticking out was too small for me to grab hold of to pull
out.
I knew that I needed to get it out or else it would become
infected. As I went to find the school nurse I learned that the only medical person on staff was just a first aid kit in the
library (go figure, a school where people could be electrocuted, burned,
crushed, chopped, and potentially blown up and the only medical staff was a
damn box of band aids). I found a pair of plastic tweezers, however they were so flimsy that they couldn’t grab hold of a spare rib none
the less a little splinter. I was
screwed.
Ms. Lamasch was the only woman teacher at UTI and I had her
for both of my electricity courses. She
was 5’ tall, probably 100 lbs, and didn’t take crap from nobody (dealing with
500 egotistical gear heads she had to be tough). I got along with her great, in fact, she was
my favorite teacher. I knew that she
would have needles in her classroom because we used them as back probes to
check for electrical shortages, voltage, etc. I found her just after one of her classes ended and just before she was
going to take lunch. I asked if I could
use one of her needles and explained my situation. After taking a look at my finger, and seeing
my already pale face, she new that if I tried to dig this thing out on my own,
a little splinter would be the least of my problems.
I sat at a table across from her in an empty classroom. With a two inch sewing needle and a bottle of
alcohol, Ms. Lamasch proceeded to conduct surgery on my finger by digging out
what must have been the biggest splinter of all man kind. No ice, no anesthetic, just alcohol and a
needle. The entire operation took about
5 minutes, and by the time she was done I was on my knees, with my head under
the table, and my arm resting on a paper towel covered in blood. I then heard her say, “see, it wasn’t so bad,
now stop acting like a baby and sit down.”
I looked up at her and that is when I received the most important advice
of my entire automotive career; “Chris, you know I think your great, but if you
are going to work in this industry I would suggest you stay away from under the
hood and stick to management.”
She was right.