(Sept 28) My father was a carpenter, a union carpenter. The whistle was a symbol. The foreman was the company man. The shop steward was the first union man on the job and usually the last to leave when the project was completed. The steward blew the whistle at 8 a.m. and the men started work and again at lunch, after lunch and at the end of the work day.
When I first got into backpacking in the 70s, my father gave me a metal whistle with a wooden ball inside. Over the years, I’ve carried that whistle on and off. If I got stuck somewhere, maybe sprained an ankle, I could call for help. This year, I carried it all over South America, Asia and the USA.
This morning it was confiscated by the Australian government as a part of the war against terror.