Last Line For the Lineman

It’s a fine line we walk in life, but a finer line the lineman holds on to. There’s something about holding 24,000 volts in your hand, close enough to kiss it. Close enough to feel the tingle on his lips, sending the slightest shiver down his spine. He’ll tell you, there’ something about watching that blue light dancing up his arm while working in the rain. As people sleep he works swiftly to allow others to live, teetering on the edge every day. Dealing with hot lines, pot heads, transfers and more volts than most people encounter in their entire lives, these men risk their lives for the love of the live wire. There’s something about being outside, 60 feet above the ground, in 110-degree weather, -10 degree weather, or pouring rain. There’s something they can’t explain to you, something you won’t understand unless you also fall in love with the live wire. He’s content to know he’s done his job, all too often without recognition. He sleeps nights, knowing his friends are out their risking their lives, and he may be called at any time, to help them, to help you. As the children play, as the neighbors sleep, the lineman climbs his poles and brings you back to the light.