Parallel Paths
We had a lot of them lying around the house. Different colors: White, ivory, reds of a few varieties. Fire bricks. It's what led my great grandfather, just after the turn of the century, from Vermont, via Kentucky, to a town with a clay mine in the middle of north central Missouri. He was looking for work in a burgeoning industry.
My great grandfather worked around the kilns in the factory, producing fire baked bricks that could withstand 10,000+ degrees Fahrenheit. My grandfather was next. After leaving a promising football career at the University of Missouri to serve his country in the Merchant Marines, he returned to finish his education in engineering.
He, too, went to work in the fire brick industry, but he had an office. Traveling six continents scouting clay mines and overseeing installations into the 1990s, when he retired.
My father graduated college, taught math, and returned to school for his MBA. In the mid 1980s he arrived at the headquarters, selling fire brick (and various other more advanced ceramic products that had been developed since).
In 1999, AP Green Refractories was sold to Harbison Walker, and we relocated to Pennsylvania. A small town in north central Missouri was crippled, and I think it was probably best that we weren't there to witness it. My father still works for the group that oversees the products AP Green once produced.
In April of 2016, I was fishing the banks of the Yellowstone River below a two track that used to hold a railway between Livingston, Montana and Gardiner, Montana, at the north entrance to Yellowstone National Park. A geologic odyssey sits on the banks of the river here, where petrified wood, obsidian, agates, and other minerals represent a long geologic story that has played out in the region.
Also sitting here, isolated and white amongst the dark stones, was a half broken piece of fire brick, stamped 'AP Green Refractories - Empire'. It must've fallen from a train when they still passed through above. Empire was a popular product line from the company, and there's a chance that exact brick passed through a kiln within arms reach of my great grandfather before being loaded on a train from Mexico, Missouri. We had both made the same journey, it's path more direct.
My great grandfather worked around the kilns in the factory, producing fire baked bricks that could withstand 10,000+ degrees Fahrenheit. My grandfather was next. After leaving a promising football career at the University of Missouri to serve his country in the Merchant Marines, he returned to finish his education in engineering.
He, too, went to work in the fire brick industry, but he had an office. Traveling six continents scouting clay mines and overseeing installations into the 1990s, when he retired.
My father graduated college, taught math, and returned to school for his MBA. In the mid 1980s he arrived at the headquarters, selling fire brick (and various other more advanced ceramic products that had been developed since).
In 1999, AP Green Refractories was sold to Harbison Walker, and we relocated to Pennsylvania. A small town in north central Missouri was crippled, and I think it was probably best that we weren't there to witness it. My father still works for the group that oversees the products AP Green once produced.
In April of 2016, I was fishing the banks of the Yellowstone River below a two track that used to hold a railway between Livingston, Montana and Gardiner, Montana, at the north entrance to Yellowstone National Park. A geologic odyssey sits on the banks of the river here, where petrified wood, obsidian, agates, and other minerals represent a long geologic story that has played out in the region.
Also sitting here, isolated and white amongst the dark stones, was a half broken piece of fire brick, stamped 'AP Green Refractories - Empire'. It must've fallen from a train when they still passed through above. Empire was a popular product line from the company, and there's a chance that exact brick passed through a kiln within arms reach of my great grandfather before being loaded on a train from Mexico, Missouri. We had both made the same journey, it's path more direct.
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