Louisiana Voice

BATON ROUGE—He would have made 91 on November 27 had he lived until then. He didn’t.

Still, he worked right up to the end. A blood clot in his leg hospitalized him and when he was released his doctor said he could not return to work. His last day on the job was September 20. He died exactly a month later, on October 20.

James Jene (Gene) Ruffin was a retired bricklayer who couldn’t stay retired. He went back to work as a security guard, first for a Baton Rouge hospital and then for a company under contract to the State of Louisiana in the Claiborne Building, which houses the Division of Administration, the Office of Risk Management, the State Land Office, the Department of Education, the Department of Civil Service, and various other state agencies.

Because of bid laws, the contract for security shifted from firm to firm on an annual basis but whichever firm would win the contract would simply take on the employees from the previous firm. The contractor might change, but the personnel rarely did. Even when one of those firms defaulted on the guards’ paychecks and lost the contract, Mr. Ruffin stayed on. He never did get paid for those two weeks.

He was a short man who moved with all the agility and speed one might expect of a 90-year-old. That is to say he never hurried. He also was a quiet man but one who always spoke.

He and fellow guard Robert Goree became fast friends. Mr. Goree, himself in his eighties, is a native of Grambling and a graduate of Grambling State University. He is a retired teacher and often gave Mr. Ruffin a ride to work, letting him out of his car by the loading dock where one of the guard stations was located.

“I can still see him shuffling up that long ramp going into the building, taking those little steps of his,” said Mr. Goree, who was one of three people to offer a tribute to Mr. Ruffin at the funeral. The other two were grandsons.

Several employees of the Office of Risk Management were members of a coffee club with each member charged only with bringing an occasional fresh bag of Community medium roast coffee to replenish supplies. There were no monetary dues to belong to the club. Both Mr. Ruffin and Mr. Goree were honorary members, welcome to partake of coffee in the community kitchen of the Claiborne Building’s basement.

Mr. Goree always got a fresh cup in the morning. One cup, that’s all. Mr. Ruffin, who didn’t come on shift until 2 p.m. would usually come into the kitchen during the 2:30 break and pour himself a cup of what by that time of day was a syrupy sludge, more akin to number two west Texas crude than real coffee. But he drank it, nevertheless.

Those of us in the break room at 2:30 grew accustomed to checking his belt each day. There was this one belt loop that he always seemed to miss and it became something of a running joke with all of us.

But the joke may ultimately be on us. How many of us will be working at 90? Most of us, provided we make it that far, will more likely be sitting in a sun room in some rest home with a lap blanket and shoulder shawl nodding off in front of some nameless soap opera on television. But Mr. Ruffin was working.

One of fondest memories of Mr. Ruffin will be the ongoing trash talking with Mr. Goree over the Grambling-Southern rivalry. Mr. Goree loves Grambling but Mr. Ruffin lived for Southern. He never missed a game. One of his sons usually drove him to out-of-town games but for one recent game, that son was unavailable to drive him so he and another son hopped a Greyhound and rode for hours on end to an out-of-state game. That’s devotion.

He and Mr. Goree never passed up the opportunity to trade friendly insults. It was not only fun to watch, it was heartwarming. It’s a certainty that Mr. Goree is going to miss their good-natured banter and the affable rivalry in the weeks and days leading up to the annual Bayou Classic game between the two schools.

And we will both miss Mr. Ruffin.