The Roses of Success

As a WPI student goes through his career, and enters the IQP stage, they may find they come to two conclusions:

1. This is a lot of work.
2. I'm going to cry now.

And thus summarizes my week, good readers.

Ah, the life of an engineer. Whether it's mechanical, chemical, civil, biomedical, electrical, or computer that comes before that "e" word, you can be sure your life will be filled with sleepless nights, technical reports, and mandatory humanities classes so you can communicate eloquently in something other than Klingon.

But this past week, I met a man that made engineering seem worth it. His name was Bill, and he worked at the London Transport Museum's Acton Depot.

Bill spoke exactly like Michael Caine. It was wonderful.

My group was tasked with taking a field tour of the Acton Depot to learn more about our sponsor organization, and get an idea of the history behind London's transportation systems. So off we went to this monument to old trains and buses, storage boxes, pieces of cast iron, ancient computers, levers, and control stations. 

Bill gave us a grand tour.
"Over here you'll see a bus. Now, I'm a signals guy, and buses really aren't my thing, but I can tell you that this bus is green. Typically, they're red."

Notes were taken vigorously.

Then, the moment. We walked into this garage area underneath an overhanging second floor in the depot. Retired men, well into their 70s, old engineers working quietly, intently, on old electrical boards and machine parts, whittling away the time and talking about their passion, their love: engineering. Also, politics, but that's a different story. Bill called them his "erstwhile chums."

An accurate depiction of the scene I am describing:

Old engineers, devoted to their craft. Proof that the endless hours pay off in the end. Or, an instructional anecdote on how men can continue to avoid household responsibilities well into their 80s. I'm inclined toward the latter.