Jessie sat on the last stool at the far end of the bar away from the Happy Hour folks whooping it up after a week of working. They laughed and chided each other good naturedly, buying rounds for each other and talking about their bosses the way that employees tend to do. God how he wished he could hate them for their self-assurance and confidence in tomorrow, but he couldn't. They were the fortunate ones for now. He had been down that road of weekly paychecks and Friday night Happy Hours to celebrate another week of surviving the cuts that thinned out the ranks of co-workers. He had always felt bad when one of his friends had been escorted out of the plant by some smug faced manager into the cold world of unemployment lines and sleepless nights. Jessie had always believed that it would never happen to him. Hell, he had 25 years under his belt at the plant with great attendance, high production and a willingness to learn any job that they threw at him. He felt safe from the wolves that nipped at the heels of the American worker.

Charlie Barton and his family
Stopped today to say goodbye
He said the bank was takin' over
The last few years were just too dry
And I promised that I'd visit
When they found a place in town
Then I spent a long time thinkin'
'Bout the ones the wolves pull down

     Jessie had started working at the camera plant when he was fresh out of high school. His Dad had worked at the plant for years and was proud when Jessie applied for and got a job working on the assembly line as he had years earlier. The company always took care of the employees that did their jobs well and put out a good product that benefited everyone in the end. To almost all of the  families in Blaineville, the camera plant was a way of life and a secure one at that. People bought homes, cars, television sets and all the things that make up the American dream. The Town of Blaineville was prospering and so was the company that supplied jobs to the community. Then things started to change.

     Management fought union demands for fair wage increases to match rising cost of living. They wanted to cut benefits for their employees despite rising profits. The workers that had been loyal to the company were now disposable commodities as the CEOs pandered to stockholders and an increasing greed for larger profits. Lay-offs sent the community reeling. It was a trickle down effect of loss that slowly devastated a once prosperous town.

Lord, please shine a light of hope
On those of us who fall behind
And when we stumble in the snow
Could you help us up while there's still time

     To Jessie it seemed like an awful game of dominoes as small businesses in town like Thelma's Super Market or Jasper's Drug Store had to close. The For Sale signs all over town on houses that once held families secure in the American Dream were a signal of the impending death of a once lively town. The plant had decided to out source work to other countries at the price of slave labor to bolster the profit line. Who was left to support the businesses or for that matter to buy the cameras when American jobs were sent to foreign countries? Jessie took a long swallow of his whiskey as the news anchor on the TV over the bar told of tax breaks for stockholders and how it would boost the economy in a trickle down effect. Jessie laughed out loud and the Happy Hour group just stared at him.

     "The only thing that trickles down to the working man is shit!" he said as he finished his drink and walked out of the bar.

Well, I don't mean to be complainin' Lord
You've always seen me through
And I know you got your reasons
For each and every thing you do
But tonight outside my window
There's a lonesome, mournful sound
And I just can't keep from thinkin'
'Bout the ones the wolves pull down

     Jessie got into his old pick-up truck and slammed his hands into the steering wheel and the pain of it cleared his head. He had worn out a pair of shoes walking the pavement looking for a job with a living wage, but companies that once paid well for good work now hired on a contract basis with no benefits and at minimum wage. Jessie and his wife had already lost their home despite the fact that Jessie worked three jobs. It was time to move on, but where?

     "I ought to move to Mexico or somewhere where they shipped our jobs to," he whispered under his breath and then laughed at the irony.

     Then he thought of Barry Rimleach, CEO of the camera company who always got his million dollar bonus each year and who lived in the mansion that overlooked Blaineville like some feudal lord looking down on the serfs who dared not dream of such wealth or security and Jessie's fists clenched until his palms bled. He thought of his son, Joey who died at 14 because Jessie didn't have medical or the money after his job loss to pay for the treatments that would have saved his life. His wife, Jamie, had never recovered from the loss of their only child and she had turned into a fading shadow moving about the little apartment in some sorrowful fog.

     Jessie leaned over and opened the glove compartment and took out the 357 magnum that his Dad had given him just before he passed away. The grip felt good in his hand as he stared at the gun Inside him, something snapped and slid away.
  
     He made a u-turn on Main Street and sped toward the mansion on the hill as the tears of a good man pushed over the edge fell from his eyes.

  "Sometimes a man can't wait for God to make things right," he whispered. "Sometimes, it's just too late."

Oh Lord, keep me from bein'
The one the wolves pull down