On my way to and from campus, I ride by a metal scrapyard (the scenic view, n’est ce pas?). Without getting close enough to read, it’s not hard to tell that a sign on the gate has to do with licensing and fraud (among the icons and logos, McGruff the Crime Dog). It hadn’t occurred to me that black market trade in used metal might find its way here, a block off a busy suburban avenue. Dark alley exchanges of copper pipes and cables seemed more like it. Nevertheless, the sign cued up questions of how the industry works.
Typically, any vehicles coming in or out or parked in the lot are conventional enough work trucks, some heavier than others, probably delivering from demolition sites. I’ve also seen individuals pushing shopping carts overloaded with cans and other small pieces of scrap roll in, so there’s variety in the modes and means of collection.
This weekend, you might have seen the Washington Post Magazine piece on two guys whose scrap business rides a precarious edge between commercial boom and bust, between reliable equipment and dying pickups, between stable employment and fluctuating profits. Continue Reading…