Bummy & Decker

Bummy & Decker, January 9th, 2025

It was September of 1973. I was 21 and at the end of my tether. In South Dakota, I’d just wrecked my 1953 Studebaker pickup truck and had a big scar and bruise on my forehead. I had to fly home to my parents in New Jersey.

I was broke with no prospects. My Mom’s friend’s son, Chad, worked on the garbage trucks for Joey Filiberto Sanitation in Chester, New Jersey. Joey also owned the only landfill in northern NJ in Chester, where his business was located.

The landfill was just up the winding two-lane highway from my parents’ home. I drove up to Filiberto Sanitation to apply for a job carrying garbage on my shoulder.

I filled out the application and went home. Chad told me to wait at the bottom of the hill by the highway below our housing development. If a garbage truck needed a worker, they’d stop and pick me up.

So, at 5:30 AM I’d stand there by the highway hoping to get onto a truck. It took three days, but finally, an Irishman driver, Sweeney, picked me up in Truck #24.

The Irishman was a short little squint and he never got out of the truck. The other helper and I had to lug all the garbage, in big 50 gallon plastic orange tubs, to the truck.

I was a weak hippie and dragged the orange tub full of trash to the truck.

“Don’t drag the barrel! It wears them out!” The Little Lazy Irish Squint yelled at me.

On the third day with Truck #24, I was bitten by a big Rottweiler in the backyard of a house in Madison, NJ. I had to go to the clinic to get a rabies shot.

The Little Lazy Irish Squint and his helper had to pick up all the garbage that day. He wasn’t happy with me and told me I was not garbage man material.

That was depressing, but I had nowhere else to go (as Richard Gere says in “An Officer and a Gentleman”). I needed the job.

So, back down to the highway at 5:30 AM I go for a week. The trucks pick up garbage in Madison every day but Sunday. Two pickups a week for each house and business.

On the following Monday, Truck #3 picks me up. This is Decker’s truck, and Bummy is his longtime helper. They are a team.

The big green Mack garbage truck only has two seats. I sat on the doghouse (transmission cover) between the seats. No seat belts, of course.

Decker was a very big man with very few teeth left. He wore glasses and had a kind smile and disposition. It took me a week or two to understand what he was saying through his toothless mouth. I liked him right away.

Bummy looked like Spanky in The Little Rascals, all grown up. He even wore a striped beanie. He looked like a bowling ball with legs. Bowling was his sport on Sundays. Decker and his wife watched 8mm porno movies on a home projector and screen on their Sundays. Neither Decker nor Bummy could read or write. The company kept Decker’s Teamster Union Card in the company safe.
I worked hard carrying the trash as best I could. It took me two weeks to bulk up my muscles. My Mom’s home cooking helped a lot. I’d eat 4,000+ calories a day and go to bed by 9 PM.

By week three, I was running with my orange 50 gallon tub of 60 pounds or more of trash on my right shoulder to the truck. My right shoulder is about 1/2” lower than my left one today.

After two weeks, Decker told me that the Cushman dumpster was out of the garage (new clutch) and that I’d be driving that from now on.

I’d drive ahead of the Mack truck picking up the garbage on side streets. Then head back to the mother truck to dump it.

We were paid by the day so, we ran. All three of us wanted to finish as soon as possible and head home. This was usually around 2:30 PM on a good day. It was a 45 minute drive back to the dump.

After a week or so, Decker just dropped me off on the highway below the housing development where I lived.

I’ve never been in such good physical shape in my life. Six days a week, for hours, I was sprinting with 50 pounds of garbage on my shoulder.

Winter came. I remember playing hockey with some neighbors around Christmas on a pond in the development. One of the kids was a high school hockey team star.

This kid skated rings around me for 15 minutes, and then he ran out of gas. I wasn’t even winded. I kicked his butt after that.

A blizzard hit and the snow was two feet deep. I woke up at 5 AM and got dressed, had my breakfast, but didn’t go down the hill to the highway. I waited for the call that there was no work today.

Bang! Bang! On the front door. It was Bummy! We were going to work!

We walked down the driveway to truck #3. There was Decker grinning like an ape.

“Snow ain’t gonna stop us!”

Then we headed down the steep hill in the garbage truck. I was sure we’d never make the turn at the bottom. The snow on the road was literally 2’ deep. The Mac truck went right through it like butter.

The snow was too deep for the little Cushman, so we all had to hand carry all the trash to the truck. Decker always helped out. He didn’t stay in the truck like the Irish Squint.

At one point, I tried to drive the truck forward. It lurched as I tried to let out the clutch. Driving that truck was a skill I didn’t have.

Christmas was the worst time for us on Truck #3. Sure, we got generous tips taped to the tops of the garbage cans, but there was so much trash we were in danger of “Packing Out.”

Decker would always terrify me by saying, “We gonna pack out today!”

If the truck packed out, got full, Decker had to drive it all the way back to the dump in Chester, dump it, and come back before we could end the day. That’s an extra 2 hours.

There were four of us Filiberto trucks picking up garbage in Madison. We were all white. The trucks that picked up garbage in Morristown, had all black crews. Joey Filiberto didn’t want any trouble.

I always felt that our truck #3 had the hardest route in Madison because of Decker’s kind nature.

The Irish Squint had one route. The All Stars (they had the best crew) had another. Lannie had the fourth one.

Lannie was even bigger than Decker. Lannie picked up a case of Mickey’s Big Mouth Malt Liquor every morning and put the case on top of the cab of his truck in a special cage he’d made.

By the end of the day. Lannie and his crew had drunk the whole case of Mickey’s. Lannie had the biggest beer gut I’ve ever seen, but he could lift a refrigerator. Great guy!

I’ve already told the story of the wildcat strike at 6 AM in the Mendham Diner. Chad, who was on the All Stars truck, took all the keys out of all four trucks parked in front of the diner.

All four trucks stopped there for breakfast on their way to Madison. I just had coffee. Bummy and Decker had full breakfasts and their farts in the cab of the Mack truck on the way to Madison made my eyes water.
Chad announced a wildcat strike because we hadn’t gotten our raises as promised (we made good money). Decker started crying. He was like me with nowhere else to go. Bummy thought it was all crazy.

BAM! The front door slams open. In walks Joey Filiberto himself, all 5’4” of him. He’s wearing a black tuxedo, white silk scarf, red rose in his lapel, fedora, and carrying a black cane.

“STRIKE OVER!” He shouts and walks out the door.

Chad gives me the keys to truck #3. I give them to Decker and say, “Let’s get outta here.” And off we go to Madison.

We got our raise in our next paychecks.

Oh, there are more stories from Truck #3. I remember the old winery in Madison. It was run by an old German or maybe Dutch. We’d stop there to pick up his trash if the truck had room at the end of the day.

The old vintner was a nice guy and he’d chat us up. He’d also give us each a Heineken beer. Decker didn’t drink, so I drank his and mine on the way home. The old winery had that old wine smell about it. I’m sure it had an interesting history.

I quit in May. I hadn’t missed a day for nine months. Decker and Bummy were upset that I was leaving, but I was 22 and ready to head back to the Midwest with a nice nest egg of money.

TJM

Start video above at 2:33.

TJM