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The New Jungheinrich Model EJE 120

Today I was ready. The mechanic had finally finished building me, and I was ready to work. I heard men yelling to each other and the next thing I know, I am being pulled into the back of a truck. What were they doing? The door slammed shut and everything went dark. I wondered why I was put in here, but had little time to think about it as I bumped in the back, along a long road. When we finally stopped and the door slid open, the light was blinding that I didn’t notice all the people awaiting my arrival. Someone grabbed my handle and pulled me out of the truck. “Look it’s the new Jungheinrich Model EJE 120! I get to use it first.” Someone yelled from in the crowd that had now gathered around me. Everyone was pushing forward to get a look at my new yellow paint and powerful lift.
I was pulled into a hue building and realized it was a factory. Suddenly something heavy was placed on my back. Box after box was thrown onto me. Finally the loading stopped and the men were again trying to decide who would get to pull me. Finally, we were off. I couldn’t believe the size of the place and knew I would get lost without someone pulling me. Day after day, I was loaded up and yanked, pulled, and dragged through the large aisles and walkways. I loved it! I could do this forever, and knew I probably would. However, as time passed, I was run into thing and began getting scratched up. My yellow paint was fading from age and the many run-ins with corner shelves had left their mark.
The men began to choose me less and less and only took me out for the lightest loads. Why was this happening? I thought they would love me forever, but they soon found something better. One boring day, I heard a commotion and saw the men gathering around a new fork lift, the way they had for me when I arrived. He was a sleek black fork lift, and much bigger than me. Where was his handle though? How would they use him without it? Then it dawned on me. He was motorized! He didn’t need a handle to move like I did. The men would no longer need me to do their work.
As the weeks went on, the amount of time I worked diminished until finally, no one came for me at all. What had I done to make them not want me? Why did they feel the need to get this new, better one? I spent my days waiting in the storage for someone to come get me, but no one did. Each day the men would come in and the fork lift made sure to tell me just how much I was missing since they all wanted him. I was unwanted and useless. When I had given up all hope of ever being used again, I heard the door slide open and saw someone walking toward me. Could it be true? It was! The man walked right to me and took my handle. I moaned from the long days of disuse, but finally he pulled me out into the factory I knew so well.
However, instead of dragging me to the loading dock, he yanked me in a different direction. Where was he taking me? When we finally stopped, he had parked me in front of a window, and slapped a sign on my back that I could not see or read. What was going on? Where was I? Once again, I was left to sit there, with too many unanswered questions. As the factory was closed for the night, the forklift came over and started laughing, “For sale, it’s about time they got rid of you. All you are is a waste of space.” I was for sale! How could this be? Was it not bad enough that the men no longer used me? I sat there forever, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Though many came, interested in buying me, once they saw me, they all would leave without me. Who would want an old piece of junk like me? I sat there, giving up completely on all possibility of ever being used again.
Then, one day, a man walked in and straight toward me. He walked circles around me, looking me up and down. After a couple minutes, he turned to the factory owner and asked for a price. The two men went into an office and closed the door. I struggled to hear what they were saying and could only make out the words: buy, price, and sold. What did this mean? Was this man going to buy me? The man walked out of the room, circled me one more time and firmly pulled me to the door. He was buying me! But why? I was not special or useful. The man loaded me into the back of an old truck and we were off to wherever my new home would be. The road was bumpy and long, far away from the life I used to know. When he pulled me out of the truck, he brought me to the door of a much smaller factory. The man dragged me through the small aisles, with two shelves rather than twenty. I could see from one wall to the other, no matter what way I turned. The man began loading boxes onto me, and I realized he bought me so that I could be used once again! It was not the factory I worked in before. It was a small building and a primitive business, but at least I could be useful to him. The time flew by, with just me and the man working together every day. The business expanded rapidly and the warehouse grew. More and more people were hired to increase production. However, the man never ceased to seek my help in getting jobs done.
One day, one of the other men asked him, “Miguel, why do you still use that old thing, wouldn’t you rather use one of those fancy, new fork lifts? It would get the work done in half the time. No! Not here too. I waited for Miguel to agree with him, but instead, he answered, “This old thing here has been with me from the very start. Not once has it broken or failed me. I do not need those fancy fork lifts, I have this and it is all I need. I get my work done fast enough. If you want a fancy forklift, then go get one, but as for me, I am sticking with this.” He pointed to me as he finished speaking and I realized how useful I am. The man chose me over a forklift! If only the forklift from the other factory could see me now. Miguel grabbed my handle and began pulling me down the aisles once again. As the days continued to go by, I knew that even though I may not be able to lift a load higher than six inches off the ground, I was still useful to the man.

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