Example 1: Bus maintenance supervisor, heartfelt with a few laughs, about 5 minutes
621 words · about 5 min spoken
Thank you all for coming tonight. It means a lot to see so many familiar faces—and even a couple folks who usually only come out of their offices when there’s cake. I appreciate you taking the time to help mark the end of my 32 years at Tri-County Transit. It’s a little strange standing here, knowing tomorrow I won’t be hunting for missing wrenches or answering 2 a.m. phone calls about dead buses on Route 9. Not that I’ll miss those calls.
I started here in 1994, sweeping floors and changing oil as an apprentice mechanic. I didn’t know much, but I knew enough to listen when someone smarter was talking. Over the years, I moved up through the ranks, and in 2016, I became shop supervisor. Suddenly I was running 28 mechanics and keeping 140 buses rolling. I like to think I learned a thing or two along the way, mostly the hard way. Like during the blizzard of 2011, when my night crew and I worked 36 hours straight to keep every bus on the road. I’m still not sure if I was fueled by coffee or sheer stubbornness that night.
My last big project here was getting our first twelve electric buses on the street. I had to learn a whole new trade at 57, and some days it felt like I was back to being the rookie again. But if I can figure out the diagnostics on those new buses, I figure you all can handle just about anything that comes down the line.
I owe a lot to the people who helped me along the way. Walt Kowalski, my first boss, took a chance on a kid with no experience. Walt, thank you for showing me how to do things right the first time, and for not yelling when I left a puddle of oil across the bay my first week. Instead, you handed me a mop and just said, “Now you’ll never forget.” You were right—I never did, and I’ve probably handed out a few mops myself since then.
To my night crew—Marcus, Big Lou, and Dee—thank you for keeping the wheels turning when nobody was watching. Dee, you’ll do great as supervisor. Sheila in dispatch, thank you for saving my neck so many times I stopped counting. Carmen, my wife, I owe you at least 7,000 lunches and a few more quiet evenings. Lucia and Ana, my daughters, thank you for putting up with your dad’s odd hours, and for letting me brag about you every chance I got.
I want to thank the HR team for putting this together at the VFW hall. And to everyone else in this shop—I learned a long time ago that it’s better to ask a dumb question than to make a dumb mistake. And for Pete’s sake, clean your tools before you go home. The next person deserves a clean bench.
What I’ll miss most is those 5 a.m. coffees with the night crew, swapping stories before the buses rolled out. What I won’t miss? Let’s just say my phone is finally getting the silent treatment it deserves.
Carmen and I are finally going to take that road trip to the Grand Canyon, something we’ve talked about since our honeymoon. And I’m looking forward to spending time with my grandson Mateo, teaching him how to turn a wrench while we restore a 1967 Ford pickup. I can’t wait to see if he gets as many grease stains on his shirt as I always did.
Thank you again, all of you, for making this place feel like home. (Raise your glass) Here’s to the shop, to good friends, and to the next chapter—for all of us. Thank you.
What the writer told Toastful to get this speech
- Speaker
- Ramon, the retiree (my own speech)
- Career
- I started at Tri-County Transit in 1994 as an apprentice mechanic, mostly sweeping floors and changing oil. I became shop supervisor in 2016, running 28 mechanics and 140 buses. In the blizzard of 2011 our night crew kept every bus on the road for 36 hours straight. My last big project was getting our first 12 electric buses on the road, which meant learning a new trade at 57.
- People to thank
- Walt Kowalski, my first boss, who hired me with no experience and taught me to do things right the first time. He retired in 2009 and he's here tonight. My night crew: Marcus, Big Lou and Dee, who takes over as shop supervisor on Monday and is more than ready. Sheila in dispatch, who has saved my neck more times than I can count. And my wife Carmen, who packed me something like 7,000 lunches, and our daughters Lucia and Ana.
- Lessons
- Ask the dumb question, because a dumb question is cheaper than a dumb mistake. And clean your tools before you go home, because the next person deserves a clean bench.
- Stories
- In my first week I forgot to tighten an oil drain plug and left a puddle the size of a kiddie pool across the bay. Walt didn't yell. He handed me a mop and said, 'Now you'll never forget,' and I never did. That's the moment I decided this was the place I wanted to stay.
- What they'll miss
- I'll miss the 5 a.m. coffee with the night crew before the first buses roll out. I won't miss the phone ringing at 2 a.m. to tell me a bus died on Route 9.
- What's next
- Carmen and I are driving to the Grand Canyon in the spring, a trip we've talked about since our honeymoon. My grandson Mateo and I are restoring a 1967 Ford pickup in my garage.
- Thank-yous
- The HR team, for planning this party at the VFW hall.