One of the earliest stories I heard as a child was that my immigrant great-great-grandfather worked out West on the first transcontinental railroad. Yuan Son, along with tens of thousands of other Chinese workers, blasted tunnels, carved footholds and laid grade at death-defying heights through the most arduous parts of the Sierra Nevada, miraculously making it out alive. I envisioned him tough and swashbuckling — a cross between my tall, bartender grandfather, who often told me these stories while smoking a Marlboro in our home in Queens, and Yosemite Sam.
My great-great-grandfather and his fellow laborers toiled around the clock in rotating shifts, handling explosive nitroglycerine, blasting through miles of granite, hauling tons of rock and dirt, even in upwards of 30 feet of snow.