The Last of the True Road Hands, Adventures in Bridge Excavations. (original) (raw)

"The Last of the True Road Hands"
The Bob Mohel Saga

by John Troesser

Bob Mohel originally wrote to us with information on Casa Piedra. When we found that he had worked on the bridge out there we got nosier. Bit by bit we got some stories and asked Bob if he wouldn't mind retelling them for the benefit of readers who most likely won't get to have the fun of drilling holes all over the state.

	Derrick on Hwy 183 in Austin

Williamson County, Texas, 1957.

The town of Friendship was spending its last few months above water before being flooded to form Lake Granger. Seven miles east of Friendship, in the actual town of Granger, Bob Mohel and Raymond Hajda were hanging around the Humble Gas Station wondering what the odds were of a stranger appearing and offering them a job. It turned out they were pretty good.

About this time, Rudy Vaclavick, a driller, was visiting relatives across the street from the station and recognized the two young men as friends of his niece. His drilling crew was short one man so he approached the two and asked if one of them was looking for work. They said they both were, and that any deal made would be �both - or nothing.� He told them to pack their bags and meet him the next morning at Eddy - a small town midway between Waco and Temple on Highway 35.

They arrived at Eddy at 9:00 sharp and had no trouble finding the drilling rig. It was already hard at it - making holes for a bridge in the median of Highway 35. Their first job, however, was to drive to DeLeon to pick up another rig and drive it to Corsicana. This initial moving of equipment to the next job was just a taste of what was yet to come. But at the heady wage of $1.60 an hour, it sure beat the hell out of emptying Coke bottles in Granger.

Bob would eventually get to know Texas like few people ever will. From Casa Piedra in deep West Texas to Toledo Bend on the Louisiana side of the Sabine.

Raymond, a few years older than Bob, died young. He was asphyxiated one winter day when he showed up for work early and was keeping warm in a truck with a faulty exhaust system. The work was indeed rough, and faulty equipment, human error and the suicide of his boss trimmed the rolls until Bob is now the last man standing and is truly "the last of the True road hands."

Living out of his suitcase in cheap hotels and sometimes sleeping on quilts alongside the equipment, Bob had his share of close calls, which he�ll be relating in his own words. Sleeping outside had it's drawbacks as Bob soon learned when his work boots were stolen one night while he slept. Bob suspects either a dog or a hobo. He spent the day working in his dress shoes until he could get into town to buy a replacement pair.

	Bob and Leta at their daughter's wedding. Photo Courtesy Bob Mohel

His First (and last) Wife

Bob met his lifelong partner in Fort Worth. Leta was a Cherokee maiden (just like the Bob Wills song) from Wagner, Oklahoma. The constant relocating had the Mohels at one point paying simutaneous rent in Fort Worth, Hemphill and Austin. They have since settled on one home outside of San Antonio.

The Job

Drilling holes as deep as 80 feet in crumbling rock and shell, before safety technology and OSHA, the inspection of holes was performed the old-fashioned way - by lowering a man on a cable. Frequently this man was Bob. At Lake Tawakoni, East of Dallas, Bob was checking a hole by being lowered fifty feet down. A small clod of shell hit his hat as he was approaching the bottom, barely giving him time to shout to the operator to pull him out. Seconds later twelve feet of shell and mud filled in the space he had just occupied.

	Bob at his retirement party after 47 years across Texas Photo Courtesy Bob Mohel

The vignettes provided by Bob offer a glimpse at life on the road, off the road and sometimes under the road. There's someting for everyone with fistfights, lightning strikes, wild rides down caliche roads and a even a view from a Mexican border town jail.