Rosie The Riveter's Day
by
Jack Reynolds

It took half a century, but "Rosie the Riveters" finally held a class reunion

Long after parting company in the waning days of World War II, one hundred twenty five "Rosie the Riveters" held their first "class reunion." The occasion was a joint Portland Harbor Museum---Portland Area Post Office celebration of the unveiling of a stamp commemorating their service in the winning of World War II.

The reunion was a time for looking back and swapping war stories of the exciting days when they held down the often
dangerous jobs traditionally performed by men.One member of the "Class of 42," Erla Gibbin, a sprightly 77 year-old Portland resident, left Castle Hill, Aroostook County in 1941 to look for work in the new South Portland shipyard. At first, Erla was turned down because of a weight problem---not enough...

When I applied they wouldn't take me because I weighed under 100 pounds so I went to work waiting on tables in a shipyard boarding house. When I applied in '42 I hadn't gained any weight, but by then they were taking anybody so I started in welding school.

On a cold January night in 1943, Erla, by now a veteran welder, was reminded that working on a narrow platform with a blazing welding rod high above the unyielding steel plates of a half finished Liberty Ship can be as dangerous as duty on any battle front.

Not only was I a light weight, I was also short so I had lots of looking up to do to get at the high places. On that night a slug of hot metal bounced into my eye and I fell backwards across the platform. There wasn't anything between me and a tumble into the lower hold. Somehow I had the presence of mind to fling myself back against the wall.

A fellow worker led Erla on hands and knees along the platform to a ladder to the top deck and a trip to the infirmary. Fortunately, the wound was not serious and Erla returned to work a few days later.

The Almighty was with me on that on, but most of the time I never thought I was doing anything heroic. It was just a job and it beat picking potatoes and doing housework.

At war's end, the men came back to reclaim their traditional jobs. The yard's ten percent contingent of 3500 female employees slowly dwindled away. Tack welder, Lucille Jenkins Nutt hung on longer that most, but eventually the final closing of the yard ended her 5-year tenure.

I came here in 1941 right at the beginning and I was the last one laid off in the pipe shop---never missed a day of work.

In half century that has past since Lucille Jenkins Nutt reported in for her final day's work in the pipe shop, her shop along with the other gigantic shipyard buildings all have disappeared. The Liberty Ship fitting out dock survives as a wharf for giant tankers to discharge their cargoes.
Erla Gibbin looks across Portland Harbor and evokes the bright lights and noise of the busy wartime shipyard and winter nights when welding rods stuck to the work when snuffed out by the intense cold. But that was long ago. Basin gates that held back the sea during ship construction have been dismanteled. Now she sees only a fleet of tiny white yachts bouncing in the flooded basins and bright lights streaming from waterfront restaurant windows.

It gives me a sad feeling to look across and see it all gone. I guess I'm just sentimental.