We pass the trucks, the drivers and workers every day. They stop, pick up and move forward. It is a cycle that repeats itself all over town, in every neighborhood taking care of residents and business owners. The trucks are big, carrying one maybe two workers if the team is lucky. They receive no praise for the most thankless job. But what would we do without them?
Would we still be the most glamorous place on earth? The best looking? The most hospitable? You never give a second thought to how or who does the job as long as it gets done.
Garbage pickup is so unsexy that it is now called environmental services. The workers have no special equipment and little or no safety gear, yet they jump off those trucks day in and day out, running back and forth across quiet and busy streets all over the Lowcountry picking up whatever we throw away with little regard for their own well-being. They keep a rigid time schedule because the only time they hear from you is if you do not get “served.”
This is in memory of Tyrone Comfort, a City of Charleston environmental service provider who reported to work last week to do his job of picking up your trash.
But Tyrone was killed in the line of duty. There will be no parades or fanfare. His loved ones will miss him.
The City of Charleston will too.