THE ALARM GOES OFF BEFORE sunrise. The coffee is already brewing. A lunch sits packed on the counter, and the drive ahead is one you could make with your eyes closed.
For thirty years, that routine has paid the mortgage, kept the lights on, put the kids through school and made a modest retirement feel within reach. There were night shifts, missed birthdays, Christmas mornings spent on the line. Nobody promised riches. The bargain was simpler: show up, do the job well, help build something that matters — and trust that the company will still be standing when it's time to hang up the work boots.
Then comes the meeting.
Production is changing. Operations are being idled. Hundreds of positions may be lost. The words are carefully chosen. But the drive home feels different. What do you say to your partner? What do you tell the kids? How do you explain that the future you spent three decades building may have changed in a single afternoon?
