|April 18, 2012 | Stuffs
A woman told me about her Father, who worked at the Jax warehouse in New Orleans in the 1950s. It was a terrible, hot place, she said. The work was hard, accidents were frequent, and there was no compensation for injuries, no pension. The men were, however, allowed to drink as much beer as they wanted, and they’d all be blind, staggering drunk by mid afternoon.