Learning the Ropes

I discovered over the next few months that the mill was in great disrepair. It was quite frightening to go from the comfort of the Tech Control main office into the inner workings of the mill. I thought the vibrations and groanings of the machines, as well as the structure itself, were normal. It was not normal and I would either get used to it or find a safe office in which to work. My first tour of the mill was a blur of machinery, electric motors, conveyor belts, pipes, standing water and noise, plenty of noise. I was too busy watching where I put my feet, and could not always hear what Sid was telling me. Besides, it was too noisy to hear anything quieter that a shout directly into the ear. I noticed almost everyone in the machine environment was wearing ear muffs or had cotton balls in their ears. The paper making process goes from wood to paper, but my tour was going up-stream, from paper to wood.
We finally ended up in the 'groundwood mill' which would become my work environment for the next three months. In the midst of the screaming 'grinders' was a tiny cubicle about 18 feet long and no more that 6 feet wide. It had windows and a swing door, and when we stepped through the door, I realised that it was insulated from the cold, damp atmosphere of the mill, but more importantly, it was sound insulated. What a relief! Sid gave me a brief overview of what groundwood was and what my job would be in relation to the groundwood and how my work would influence decisions in that department so that the product that ended up as paper would be of the highest quality. That intimidated me. I had NO clue and yet my work would influence the decisions that would influence the final product that would make or break the success of the whole operation and therefore of the town and the lives of thousands of people? Let me out of here. I was only nineteen!
One of the main pre-requisties of qualifying for the job of Quality Control Technician was high school graduation or higher and an aptitude (good grades) for chemistry. I had both but nobody thought to ask me if I had confidence, of which I had none. It would come later, but right then and there that Gruman Goose flight was looking like a sweet alternative. Maybe my sister would lend me some money.
As that thought rattled through my mind, and Sid was going on about life in Ocean Falls, in walked a short, dark haired fellow who had a friendly and mischievous look to him. He looked to be in his late twenties and when he spoke I knew immediately that he was French Canadian. He set a tray of stainless steel containers down on the contertop and extended his cold wet hand to me as Sid introduced us. "Terry, this is Richard. He is one of our best pulp testers and he will be training you for the next five days and then you will be on your own."
With a sly grin on his face, and a heavy accent he said, "I guess pulp testing."