This one was different and involved gold dredges. That stirred a memory. In the aftermath of WWII returning veterans found scarce jobs, as much hadn’t changed from the Great Depression. My Dad found a job in Breckenridge, CO operating a gold dredge. One day while trying to put cable back on pulleys, his coworker took up slack while my Dad’s fingers and thumbs were wrapped around the cable. All his finders and thumbs were broken. The local doctor used metal splints to fix his broken fingers. My Dad had his brother bend each splint until my Dad’s hands were in a claw shape so he could still grasp the dredge controls and continue to work. His main complaint was not being able to button his Levis.
Along that same time I, at age four, fell out of the back of an old Ford sedan doing 40 mph or so on a dirt road landing on my head. The scars remain to this day. My Dad and uncle held me down on the floor while the “doctor” stitched my scalp together. The “doctor” was a former service medic/corpsman and what was available in what was then a remote Colorado mountain town.
For many years I was teased about having, “rocks in my head”.
So, WSF, is there a point to this? Yes, woke breath, generations in this country survived by doing what was necessary to survive. The solutions weren’t elegant. You survived or didn’t but nobody seemed to be appalled and nobody looked to the “government” for help or even expected help.
We have lost that expectation and are poorer as a people and a nation, IMO. As always, YMMV.