Watermelon Man
~ Dave Waldo
During the summers while I was going to the University of Washington, I worked in a large warehouse for Pacific Fruit and Produce located in Spokane. I worked nights from 9 pm until 5:30 am in the morning plus whatever overtime required.
Our crew was responsible for bringing out the produce and loading it on the trucks, so the drivers could take the orders off the trucks in sequence for each of the various stores along their routes.
My major responsibility each night was to unload watermelons from box cars and load them on what we called ginnys. These were large wagons with sides that we could pull, push, and steer by hand. I would count and weigh the melons for each order, and then the melons would be put on the trucks to go out to the stores. Most nights I would be out in a box car loading up ginnys. Many nights one of the other guys would be out there helping me.
Some nights we got in a bunch of melons that cracked easily. Those were the best melons. They were crisp and delicious. When one cracked, I liked to reach in and grab the heart of the melon and eat it right there in the box car. My mouth is watering now just thinking about it. I took home lots of cracked melons that otherwise would have gone to waste. Sometimes we would give a cracked melon to some of the hobos and bums that were around. It made me feel good to watch them enjoying their treat.
Once in a while we received a box car with lots of spoiled melons. During the early season we would get melons in from places like Texas, and maybe a box car might have sat too long in the hot sun on some side rail. I could tell when we had a box car load like that when I reached for a melon and my finger went right into it. I would pull back with slime all over my hand. It was disgusting! I remember picking up a melon gingerly and hearing the water slosh around inside, and then when I pressed on it with my fingers, it would go to pieces in a mess. One night I was working a box car with another guy, and we had just given a cracked melon to one of the hobos who came by. Another hobo appeared out of the dark and demanded obnoxiously that we give him a melon too. I picked out a rotten melon that was just barely holding together and said here, catch, and I tossed it to him. When he caught it, it exploded all over him. Later, when I thought about what I had done, I kind of felt bad, but it was funny at the time. I didn’t feel too bad, because he was so obnoxious.
One thing about working nights pitching watermelons, there was never a dull moment. Occasionally I would have to go down in the dark and use the rail jack to move one of the box cars forward to get it into position., I was a little nervous about doing that because I didn’t know who was down there in the dark. One night I jumped down from the dock with my rail jack. As I’m walking beside the box car in the dark, I stepped on something. It felt like a body. And then I heard a groan. A guy was sleeping in the dark next to the box car. I went ahead, moved the box card into position, and made sure I didn’t step on him on the way back. That’s just the way it was down on the tracks in the dark.
A guy came out of the dark one night and asked if he could stay close to us in the light for awhile. He said someone was out there with a knife, and he was scared. So, we let him hang around until it got light. He was very appreciative that we let him stay safe and also for the cracked melon he feasted on.
Being the Watermelon Man was a good job for me. It paid well, which helped me to go through college. I gained a lot of confidence working those 3 summers for Pacific Fruit & Produce. And, I was proud to be known as the watermelon man. Several years later when I was living in Los Angeles, I went to hear an entertainer named Mongo Santa Maria and his marimba band. I fell in love with his theme song, “Watermelon Man.” I loved it so much that I went right out and purchased his record and played it over and over again. I still love hearing the sounds of Mongo Santa Maria and “Watermelon Man.” It’s my song.