#workmates

Seamless teamwork, on and off the ramp. 🤝✨

Taking a moment to recharge while the cargo gets ready for departure. Who makes your workday better just by being there?

A fascinating bit of social history from Leipzig, Germany. Even though at first glance it might look like a group of inmates, the sign shows they were actually colleagues from Regel & Krug, a Leipzig printing and publishing firm active from the 1890s into the early 20th century. Leipzig was a major centre for books and postcards at the time, and Regel & Krug was part of that booming trade, producing lithographic prints, postcards, and other printed materials. The heavy clothing is simply practical workwear for a printworks environment, not a uniform, making this a workplace portrait rather than anything more dramatic.

📍 Leipzig, Germany

👓 Early 20th century printworks portrait, industrial workwear, real working life captured on camera

This one is extra sentimental for me. About two years ago, when my dad’s condition was getting worse, I thought about reaching out to his workmates thinking maybe his friends needed to know, or maybe they could cheer him up. He might have needed someone to talk to, some old friends.

He used to tell us at home about them sharing stories from work, how his friends would call him to ask for his opinion about machines, asking for directions to repair things. How even after he went blind people still trusted his knowledge. They used to visit when he got sick or had an accident, and when he couldn’t drive anymore, one of them even picked him up so they could go to the office together.

But I forgot their names, and since the company had already closed down, I didn’t know how to contact them. Then, after my dad passed away, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to tell them. I even sent an email to the company, but got no answer.

Then my aunty told me she still had the contact of one of my dad’s friends, and she called Pak Widodo. I was so surprised when his friends came that morning, looking for my dad for the last time.

When I asked them, “Siapa namanya, Pak? Saya lupa...” and they said their names, I just cried out loud. I couldn’t stand it because I remembered how often my dad used to mention them.

It was Pak Widodo, Pak Retna, Pak Danyali, and Pak Imam. I just hope my dad somehow knew his friends came for him. And I’m so grateful there was a way for us to meet them again.

ah! To be invited by these people kahit hindi na part ng Operations Department 🥹