Chapter 5 - THE CLEANSE OF LAWSON TIMBER
Three weeks later.
The morning sun broke over the misty peaks of the Idaho timber ridge, illuminating thousands of acres of tall, green pine trees stretching as far as the eye could see.
At the central operational yard of Lawson Timber Supply, eighty-five rugged forest workers, heavy machinery operators, and truck drivers stood gathered around the main staging platform.
They wore high-visibility vests, hard hats, and work boots. They looked tired, anxious, and confused. For three weeks, rumors had been swirling across the industry that the company was bankrupt, that the owners were in federal prison, and that the sawmills were about to be shut down forever.
I stood at the top of the wooden platform.
Beside me stood Walter Lawson, wearing a heavy red plaid wool jacket, looking every bit the legendary woodsman who had carved this business out of the wilderness forty years ago.
"Listen up, everyone!" I called out, my voice carrying clearly across the quiet mountain air.
The crew fell dead silent, every eye fixed on the platform.
"I know the past month has been filled with uncertainty," I continued, looking into the faces of men I had worked beside in the mud, men whose names I knew, men whose families depended on this land. "You’ve heard rumors about bank foreclosures, fraud, and legal battles. I’m here today to tell you the absolute truth."
I took a step forward, resting my hands on the wooden railing.
"The former management—Gregory Lawson, Rachel Lawson, and Derek Vance—are currently in federal custody awaiting trial for multiple counts of fraud and grand theft," I announced clearly. "They attempted to strip this company bare and leave every single one of you without a job."
A low murmur ran through the crowd of workers.
"But they failed," Walter Lawson’s booming voice cut through the air as he stepped to the microphone.
The older workers in the crowd gasped. Many of them hadn't seen Walter in two years and believed he was bedridden or dead.
"Walter!" one of the senior crane operators shouted, raising his hard hat. "You're alive, boss?!"
"I’m alive, Hank!" Walter called back with a broad, healthy laugh. "And I’m standing here today to tell you that this company is not closing down. It is expanding!"
The crowd let out a sudden, roaring cheer.
"Effective immediately," Walter continued, gesturing toward me, "Lawson Timber Supply Incorporated has been dissolved. All physical assets, land titles, and permits have been consolidated under a new entity: Vance & Lawson Forest Holdings."
Walter placed his hand firmly on my shoulder.
"Lucas Vance is your new Chief Executive Officer and absolute owner of the operations," Walter proclaimed to the crowd. "He is a man who knows what it means to work in the mud. He is a man who respects the timber, respects the land, and respects the people who harvest it."
I stepped back up to the microphone.
"Starting today," I announced, "every field worker, operator, and driver is receiving an immediate fifteen percent wage increase. We are restoring the full health insurance benefits that were cut last year, and we are investing three million dollars into modernizing the safety equipment on every rig in the state!"
The yard exploded into wild, deafening cheers. Hard hats were thrown into the air, heavy machinery horns blared across the ridge, and rugged men embraced each other in sheer relief.
As the crew began dispersing to start the morning shift, Hank, the senior crane operator, walked up the steps of the platform, extending a massive, calloused hand toward me.
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"We knew you were one of us, Lucas," Hank said, his eyes shiny with emotion. "When you were out here three weeks ago fixing that truck frame in the pouring rain while those corporate suit-wearers were sitting in warm offices... we knew you had iron in your spine. We’ll work harder for you than we ever worked for Gregory."
"Thank you, Hank," I smiled, shaking his hand firmly. "Let’s get those saws running."
