Labor Day—it’s a holiday that all Americans enjoy and one that has a different meaning to people. It began as a result of the Pullman Strike in 1894. A wildcat strike begun by rail workers in response to cuts in wages, the act stopped travel to the west. President Grover Cleveland sent federal troops to stop the strike, an act that led to the deaths of several workers. The holiday was passed in Congress six days after the end of the strike. That in itself is amazing in that today’s Congress never passes anything expeditiously.
For lots of people, Labor Day marks the end of summer. It’s that one last day to ski or swim in sweltering temperatures. Cookouts and picnics and family get–togethers are standard activities on the first Monday of September. From that day on, fall is fast approaching and temperatures decrease and days shorten.
Families look upon Labor Day as the last opportunity to take a trip before school takes center stage in children’s lives. Once upon a time, Labor Day was the official last day of summer break as students and teachers returned to classrooms on the following Tuesday. More recently, schools officials and politicians trying to win favor with constituents have proclaimed the need to start school earlier so that children can learn more. Remember, American children lag behind all other countries on standardized test scores. Earlier school years are meant to insure that or young citizens perform better on such evaluations. Maybe our children could go back to school the Tuesday after Labor Day if in-service days were eliminated. If teachers are honest, most will admit that those staff development days are wastes of time that do harm by breaking the rhythm of learning. They’ll also tell you that such days are more about justifying some downtown official’s job than about helping teachers.
For some of us, Labor Day is taken literally. Some of the toughest projects I’ve ever tackled occurred on that September holiday. Many years ago Amy and I hung wallpaper in our house on Labor Day. We worked from morning until midnight covering the walls with an assortment of patterns and borders. Over the course of the day, we grew tired and, at times, hostile. We finally retired, but it took a few days before sore muscles and raw feelings eased.
The weekend of Labor Day is the beginning of college football. Folks in this area have whipped themselves into a near frenzy with anticipation of U.T.’s new season. Hope springs eternal, and unwavering fans cant’ wait to celebrate a victory over lesser and greater opponents. Before the season is finished, hearts will be broken with losses to despised foes, but the dedicated fans will continue to swelter in the heat and humidity of early September as the Vols begin another campaign in the confines of Neyland Stadium. Some of us are not so eager and don’t function well in a sea of 100,000–plus fans who re clad in orange.
Labor Day is a winding down of an active spring and summer. Before long, the ground will be covered in leaves, and we’ll chase them around yards as winds whip them in all directions. Before we can blink, summer will melt into winter’s cold temperatures and long nights. Our longing will be for those fun-filled, relaxing days of summer. Maybe Labor Day should be a time for mourning the losses of warmer weather and its good life.
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