Retired U.S. Marine Barry Fetzer has been writing columns for hometown papers in North Carolina for many years. He likes to amplify life experiences to show Americans aren’t really at each other’s throats the way it appears in the media these days. Barry will tell you that his one-on-one experiences with folks in America’s heartland have been — by and large — on the positive side of the ledger.
Such was the case when Barry met his septic service provider. His time with the pumper he called “Ricky” was refreshing and educational so he decided to write about it in his column for the Southern Pines Pilot. It is not often enough that a member of the wastewater industry is singled out for doing a good job, so I was compelled to give Barry a call and learn more.
He could have easily used vulgarity for what he did, but he was an intelligent, philosophical gentleman, even though he drove and operated what is delicately known as a “honey wagon.”
Septic tank work is one of those jobs we know is necessary but prefer to not think too much about, nor do we want to get too close to those who do that work for us. It’s a job we know, inherently, somebody has to do. But we’re sure glad it’s not us.
—Barry Fetzer
When Ricky arrived, Barry offered him a sweet tea before he commenced pumping the tank. The pumper was big, burly and bearded — “a bib overall kind of guy,” Barry recalled. The marine remembered what his mother had taught him about not forming preconceived notions about people based solely on their appearance.
“He very quickly proved to me that he was not only kind in the way he spoke, but he was talking about how the septic system works, the chemistry and the physics involved. He was well-versed in all the aspects of his work and very thorough.”
SEPTIC SMART
As it turns out, Barry was also well-versed in septic system care. He and his wife, Arlene, had lived in this house for 20 years and routinely had their tank pumped. They were planning to sell and downsize into a more practical house for aging in place. They planned to have a point-of-sale inspection of the septic system and called on the pumper to empty the tank first.
“I wanted to make sure I was giving the new homeowner a clean bill of health for the septic system,” Barry said.
Unlike many septic service customers, Barry also knew of the great value provided by decentralized wastewater treatment. I frequently hear from pumpers that their customers complain about how much it costs to pump and maintain their septic systems. Barry wouldn’t do that. After they moved off of the septic and into a home on the municipal sewer line, he soon realized what a great deal he had.
“When we moved, we were amazed at how much we were paying, not for water but for running water down the drain,” he said. “We were really pleased that over 20 years the septic system worked fine as long as you maintained it. They are part of our national infrastructure and they have to be maintained.”
Beyond pumping, Barry took septic system maintenance seriously. He always asked visitors to avoid flushing anything but human waste and toilet paper — an even brought out a sign asking female visitors not to flush tampons.
And then he graciously said he was glad he could do it so others wouldn’t have to. “Still,” he said, “I never pictured myself doing this for a living when I was growing up. Who would?”
Ricky serves in a job that, in many respects, is invisible. The work is hidden behind what could be called a “veil of repulsiveness.”
As they visited, the pumper told Barry that the worst part of his job was that customers often don’t want much to do with him. It was as if they wanted to stay behind that screen door so they didn’t have to have any contact with the unfortunate guy who took care of their waste. Barry said pumpers aren’t alone in this respect, that a lot of hardworking Americans are not treated with the kindness and respect they deserve.
PUBLIC SERVICE
“Unfortunately a lot of invisible people work with us and for us. The fast food workers hand us our food, we pay them our money and they’re never seen again. They’re doing important work for us, but they are invisible in many ways,” he said. “Joy to me is if I can make one person’s day every day. Maybe it’s doing a little to justify breathing all the oxygen I’m breathing.”
As he mentioned in his column, Barry said pumpers are making our lives much better by providing a critical public health and safety service. He’d remind us that life wasn’t always so convenient and trouble-free.
“A hundred years ago we were all Rickys when we had to empty our own outhouses and chamber pots, move and rebuild outhouse pits or dodge people throwing excrement out the window,” he said. “This is an acknowledgement that for a modern society to exist, we have to have people to do those jobs. The need for this kind of work is vital.”
So, in this season of thankfulness and gratitude, one of the many things I am remembering to be grateful for are modern conveniences. And also, for invisible men like Ricky who do the dirty jobs we know inherently are necessary and who are content to do them so we don’t have to do them ourselves.
The sweet tea was the second of Barry’s nice gestures for the pumper. The first was that he removed a layer of soil over the tank lid so it could be reached more easily. Then he followed the service with a tip on top of the bill. He said all of these seemed unexpected but appreciated. “He didn’t say it up front, but alluded that he didn’t see that too often from his customers,” Barry said.
WELL DESERVED RECOGNITION
Besides being what might be considered a pumper’s dream customer, perhaps Barry’s greatest gift was sharing the story of an unsung blue collar hero in his community. Pumpers do a tough job and are seldom praised for their contributions to society. Kudos to a retired Marine and small-town newspaperman who took the time to right that wrong.
