Third Shift

The Nettlebaum Novelty Co. was founded in 1882, and has continued in the Nettlebaum family right up into the 21st century. Louis Nettlebaum was a worried man, because of his own inability to change with the times. Once his family’s factory employed 350 employees working year round in a brick factory at the end of the Desire streetcar line. However, workers no longer wanted to create Mardi Gras trinkets on a piecework basis. Since Nixon opened the doors to the Chinese the competition was becoming ruinous. Then there was The Hurricane. Louis was forced to cut back to two shifts with a six-month furlough for most workers just to keep his doors open.

Louis sat on the end barstool contemplating the end of his family business while drinking a draft beer gone flat.

“Why so glum, chum?” The interloper was a dapper young Creole woman who looked as if she just dropped in from the Harvard Yard. “Business problems? Let me buy you a fresh beer and you can tell me all about it.” An hour later, Louis was surprised to find he was in business with the strange young woman.

She would have sole charge of a third factory shift. She would bring in her own labor and pay them from her share of the profits. And, what a profit sharing plan Louis had negotiated with Ruby DuPrix! Louis only supplied the factory, product design and raw materials, and Ms. DuPrix was responsible for everything else on the third shift. Ruby DuPrix would only receive fifty percent of the profits generated by her third shift. It was a deal where Louis couldn’t lose. Virtually no additional costs since the factory was lying dormant anyway, and any profit at all would add to his bottom line. Louis left the bar a happier man.

At the end of the following month, Louis was even happier when the productivity and quality of goods produced on Ms. DuPrix’s third shift surpassed the combined efforts of his day and evening shifts. Louis hadn’t really seen much of his new partner since making her acquainted with the plant and handing over the factory keys. So he was pleasantly surprised to find Ruby DuPrix in his office as the evening shift began to punch-out.

“Congratulations, on a great first month. Frankly, Ms. DuPrix I didn’t believe you could do so well, and so quickly. If my figures are correct here, you’re month’s share comes to just a little over $4,000. Probably, not enough to cover your labor costs. If productivity and quality continue, you should be in the black before the end of the Quarter.”

“Just call me, Ruby. I’m pleased things have gotten off to such a good start. And, I believe we can count on continual improvements all around. Now, if you’ll just give me a check for the month, I’ll be on my way.”

At the end of each month, Ruby DuPrix appeared and accepted a larger check as each month the quality improved and the output rose. It didn’t take Louis long to become curious, and his curiosity grew proportionately as the third shift’s profitability multiplied.

At first, Louis tried to satisfy his curiosity about Ruby DuPrix’s management methods by subtlety. Unfortunately, Ruby was even subtler and easily left Louis’ office each month with his curiosity unsatisfied. It really rankled for generations of Nettlebaum business acumen to be outclassed by a young Yankee woman. Louis searched in vain for the key to Ms. DuPrix’s management in business and organizational manuals. His questions into how the third shift was organized and managed became less subtle, but still went unanswered.

Louis tried stopping by the factory at 2 a.m., but found the doors locked against him. He pounded on the door, shouted and even threw pebbles against the windows without result. A week later, Louis objected to his exclusion from his own factory during the third shift.

“Mr. Nettlebaum, didn’t you agree to leave me and my organization in total control over the third shift? Hasn’t the arrangement been satisfactory to you?”

Louis agreed Ruby DuPrix had upheld her end of the bargain, and factory profits were better than at any time since 1987. “Look, I’m just afraid you might be using a bunch of illegal aliens as slave-labor. What if the Immigration people raid my factory and put me out of business? Your results are so remarkable, anyone would be curious as to how you manage to do it.”

“I don’t employ slave labor, and everyone working my shift is a native born American with deep roots in this soil. I’m confident none of my workers will complain, and neither should you. How do I do it? Well, I select my workers carefully, explain to them exactly how the work is to be done, and then I trust them to do the job correctly. Simple use of Maslow’s theories.” Ruby took her monthly share of the profits, and left Louis sitting with his mouth open.

Louis Nettlebaum wasn’t so easily satisfied, and he asked a distant cousin to put the factory under surveillance and keep a record of who came and went during the early morning hours. The first report was the labor force appeared at half past midnight, and appeared to consist of no more than a dozen adults. Surprisingly, the factory was emptied out several hours before dawn. Louis smiled; at last he was getting somewhere. Where exactly wasn’t exactly clear. His cousin then reported the third shift staff came down a dark alleyway winding through an impoverished neighborhood and past one of New Orleans’ most famous cemeteries. After that the cousin made no further reports, and in fact seemed to have left town unexpectedly.

Winter wasn’t quite done, but Spring was in the air as Louis stood in deep shadows outside his factory. The lights went dark in the factory loft, and it looked as if finally Louis would see the third shift workers file out. He stepped further back and stood partially concealed behind a dumpster. The factory back door opened at last and the workers slowly filed out into the alley. Their slow, shuffling walk was the only evidence of how bone tired they must have been. They said nothing, but walked in small groups toward the neighborhood they had come from. Louis counted them and found his cousin’s report was accurate, no more than a dozen workers on the shift. No wonder they were tired. Louis followed slowly being careful not to reveal his presence.

The group came to the cemetery, and passed through its gates into the maze of above ground crypts. Louis thought to himself, “This can get tricky”. He closed the gap so as to keep the last of Ruby DuPrix’s workers in sight. Even so, he lost them in the inky darkness of the tombs and could only follow by carefully listening to their soft footfalls. Then all was silent.

Louis crouched beside a 19th century granite crypt, and peered around the broken corner. There he could see the third shift workers standing in a half-circle facing Ruby DuPrix. She stood on a ledge and as the first rays of the sun struck her face, she clapped her hands and the circle of workers vanished.

“All right, Mr. Nettlebaum you can come out now.”