A Model Employee?

Glenn’s work ethic was shaped by his years at Bethlehem Steel. His time there taught him that each man has to be able to depend on the next man, which often meant life-or-death “at the Steel” as they called it. A mutual respect grew among the co-workers because of it.

Each man knew to respect the other’s personal space. Glenn spoke of a time when a co-worker grabbed his shoulder unexpectedly. Glenn had shockingly quick reflexes and with that, he turned and sent the man tumbling with a fist to his jaw. While I knew him, there was at least one time that I accidentally bumped into him and he almost instantly turned and had me by the wrist. With a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye, he said, “You watch yourself! You know what I did to that man at the Steel.”

Glenn also knew to respect another man’s tools. At the Steel, a man’s tools were his livelihood and to even as much as touch them was the gravest sin. Glenn told of fistfights that broke out over the smallest infringement on this unspoken rule.

Responsibility was considered the highest virtue among the steel workers. Each man needed to be hard at work before the bell rang each morning and not stop until the day was done. Tardiness was never an option. But being a responsible worker involved more than just being there on time and doing your job. It meant doing your job right. Since being able to do your job depended on the guy next to you, anyone not doing his job right affected every other man down the line. Any worker not paying attention could very well cost the life of another man.

Long after his years at the Steel, Glenn still maintained these high work-ethic convictions. While we were co-workers, he became quite disillusioned with the small business we worked for. Glenn’s workbench was often not as he left it, his tools were lost or damaged and he saw other employees, both high and low, who didn’t seem to know how to work or value it as he did.

As a result, Glenn understandably had little respect for his bosses or co-workers. While management couldn’t help but notice, (and those with larger egos took it very personal!) they really had nothing to reproach him on.

Whether you agreed with Glenn or not, you had to respect him. He was hard at work every morning while everybody else was still getting their coffee. Any business would benefit from having more men like him around.

Large Life in a Small Town

Life stories fascinate me. While some people lead more diverse lives than others, I am convinced that everyone has an incredible story to tell… if they will just tell it. So I often sit down with friends and family (and sometimes even strangers!) just to listen. And as I listened to Glenn’s life, the only word to describe it is “epic.”

But it wasn’t necessarily his experiences that made it epic—it was his attitude.

Glenn lived his life like the old western heroes he enjoyed so much. There was purpose and excitement around every corner. So Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, where he grew up, became his own personal frontier for fun and adventure. He told me countless stories of his young life. And whether or not they were all true, what I gathered most were not facts about his life, but how his outlook made every experience larger-than-life.

Picture by Harald Finster. Used with permission.

Glenn knew he was going to be a “steel man” from early on. Those plans were put on hold briefly while he served in Vietnam. That was the only portion of his life he rarely told stories about. But once he returned home, it was all about working for Bethlehem Steel. Yet it wasn’t just a job. It was bigger than that. It was destiny. And while I knew him, any time Jimmy Dean’s song, “Steel Men” came on, Glenn would perk up and say, “Here’s my song!”

But Glenn did far more than just work a blast furnace. He owned a small television repair business, he had rental properties for a while, he shook things up while serving on the local school board and he and his wife raised a family of four kids together.

As Glenn galloped across the screen of his ordinary life, he chose to become his own hero. He lived larger-than-life, ennobling the simple, everyday things and found worth and adventure in doing them. I cannot help but appreciate my own life more from having known him.

Horizons

I am always thankful for those people in my life who expand my horizons. Glenn Snyder would certainly fall into that category.

When I began working at Walkers, I listened to Christian rock music from the eighties and Tony Orlando and Dawn. I thought my tastes were quite broad. But Glenn, who had very unique tastes in music, movies and television, introduced me to far more.

Glenn was very passionate about his music and everyone knew it. So while we all took turns (or vied for a turn!) to choose the music, our co-workers always made a point of playing some of his every day.

I had vaguely heard of Tennessee Ernie Ford and knew Johnny Cash as “the guy who sang Ring of Fire.” But soon I was able to recognize Marty Robbins, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Tennessee Ernie Ford, and Walter Brennan. I still remember the first day I heard Gordon Lightfoot. “Who is this?” I asked Glenn. “It’s great!”

I soon learned words to the classic ballads and joined Glenn in singing “Red Headed Stranger” and “Big Iron” and so much more. The more I listened, the more I appreciated his tastes in music. When Glenn realized how much I was enjoying it, he began bringing me CDs of his old music which he had collected over the years.

I still listen to those often. It is great music and they bring back good memories of times with my friend and co-worker.

Apart from music, Glenn also introduced me to more old western movies and television shows than I could possibly name. Not only did I enjoy being able to share those with him, but I know he enjoyed having someone to share them with.

I’m glad I was open to what Glenn had to offer. My life is richer for it.