Pattern room, second floor, above the brass-and-bronze shop. 4:21 p.m. Windows open. Lineshaft running.
Ruthann Sokolowski-Pare: Vandermeulen. Hands off the rules for a minute and read the card. Kostyniuk in the office took this job off a man who brought in half a cracked impeller and no drawing, and nobody thought to ask him what the original was poured in. No drawing. I have said that to Kostyniuk once today and I will say it again at five.
Five pieces on the bench. Four of them are patterns and every one was laid out to a shrink rule, and the rules are on the nail there — four of them, four different scales, because the metal decides the scale and not you and not me. One of these five was cut to the wrong rule. It measures fine. It'll mould fine. It comes back scrap on Tuesday and nobody will know why until it's cold.
Number four is a core box, not a pattern. The office wrote it on the same ticket, 5-14-3311, and it should never have come up the stairs with the other four.
What do you have to do. Say it. — Right. Which rule cut each piece. Then which piece is wrong. Nothing has come back off the moulding floor out of this room since March of 1949 and I am not starting Monday.