The Graveyard Shift

Inside the live of those who work through the night shift

Story & photos by Ronan Lynch

Since the first droplet of oil began to fuel the fire that turned the machine, workers around the world have powered lights, warmed food and stocked shelves. Though humans must rest, machines never sleep, and there is always work to be done.

When most are getting ready for bed, a select few put on a hairnet, lace their non-slip shoes and clock in for a shift. Those who work the graveyard shift are on the clock when most others are sleeping deeply without a care in the world.

Alone at the Diner

Like a shining beacon in the night, late-night businesses attract an unusual crowd. It’s 10 p.m., and the Denny’s parking lot is nearly empty. There’s a car or two, and the heat from their engines has attracted squirrels seeking a temporary shelter.

From the parking lot, a single shadow can be seen through the glass windows. It belongs to the sole employee who works the graveyard shift at the restaurant.

Maddison Vann has worked as a server at the Bellingham Denny’s off of Meridian Street for several months now, keeping the lights on while nearby restaurants are closed for the night. When most are changing into pajamas, she ties the strings of her black apron and wraps her hair into a ponytail, ready to begin her shift.

“I’m on a whole other schedule than everyone else,” Vann said. “Especially because I went from working the opening shift at my last job, 7 a.m., so I was used to being awake early.”

She takes a deep breath. The night is strange, and anything can happen. There’s a certain trepidation over who may walk through those doors.

“It’s the people that come in, the atmosphere,” Vann said. “I’ve had people not pay me, run out on bills, and they know I’m alone. They do it because I’m alone.”

A wrong look or misspoken word can set off an unrelenting argument from inebriated customers. Dealing with drunk customers, as Vann does, is not for the faint-hearted.

“I can put people in their place if I need to,” Vann said. “People will take advantage of you so you gotta put your foot down.”

When the sun begins to peek out from over the treeline, Vann unties her apron, unwraps her hair and calls for an Uber to take her home.

A car swings by to pick her up, and the driver tells her good morning, to which she responds that she worked the night shift — it’s her nighttime and she’s going to bed.

Strange Scenes from the Produce Aisle

Even though grocery stores close, the shelves continue to be stocked and monitored throughout the night. The food customers purchase by day was put there by nighttime workers.

The loudspeakers fade into silence with a short electrical click. Shopping carts rattle and squeak as they get shoved inside. The last customers leave as the doors lock behind them. Tape is ripped off the flaps of cardboard boxes, the small clink of a knife being opened can be heard, and flat cardboard hits the floor with a dull clap. Even when the store is closed and the doors are locked, there are still employees working through the night.

During the summer, when most students stay up late and sleep until noon, Steavon Anaya-Montero worked the graveyard shift at Safeway. He couldn’t find other employment during that time, so the only option was to take the overnight shift.

Most workers who work the graveyard shift share the same sentiment; they picked the shift because it was the only job available. Anaya-Montero had a difficult time adjusting to the unusual work schedule, working alone overnight when most are soundly sleeping.

“My body at least just couldn’t and wouldn’t stay awake without the help of caffeine no matter when I went to bed,” Anaya-Montero said.

Even when he was off work, he found that he had little time and energy to enjoy his free time.

Like Vann, Anaya-Montero experienced several bizarre late-night encounters. Unlike the 24-hour diner, however, entering Safeway’s locked doors feels like willingly entering a prison with unseen dangers lurking right outside.

“There was a presumably homeless guy hanging out by the entrance, and he would wander around the parking lot with his longboard,” Anaya-Montero said. “He had a machete or some kind of large blade he left by the entrance.”

It’s an unsettling feeling to not know a person’s whereabouts, especially if they’re right outside the door with a weapon, like a scene painted from a nightmare. Anaya-Montero said that he was able to get inside the store but couldn’t shake the lingering uncertainty of the man’s location.

He recounted numerous times when he and his co-workers had to deal with thieves or strangers on unknown substances. One time, there was a group of people doing drugs inside the Safeway restroom right before the store closed. Anaya-Montero couldn’t do anything because the door closed from the inside, so the only solution was to call the police.

Odd nights at the hotel

Not too far from the Denny’s, past the decrepit Pier 1 Imports, resides Oxford Suites. On most nights, you’ll find Bryan Griffith behind the desk. He’s worked in the hotel industry for around 17 years, and the things he’s witnessed while working the graveyard shift could be taken straight from a dream.

“When I first started, I had a gentleman wearing a leopard-print speedo, suit jacket, and that was about it,” Griffith said. He found the man sitting on the sixth floor and when he told him to leave the hotel, the man cussed back, saying that would be the last time Griffith would ever receive oral intercourse from him.

Griffith’s encounter with the gentleman wearing the leopard-print speedo wasn’t even one of the craziest experiences he had while working in the hotel industry.

“In 2011, at the Best Western, the hotel got swatted. We kicked a lady off the property the night before because she was loitering and she called in the next night saying she was on the property with an AK-47,” Griffith said. When authorities were called, it was later discovered the lady was sitting in her apartment miles away and had only made an empty threat at the hotel.

On another night, American hard rock band Buckcherry wandered past Meridian Street and found themselves at the doors of Oxford Suites. On the road for their tour in Canada, Buckcherry wasn’t able to book a room for the night, but in the morning they enjoyed breakfast. If only Griffith had worked slightly longer, he would've gotten merchandise from the band.

The Science Behind the Graveyard Shift

In their research paper “Consequences of Shift Work and Night Work: A Literature Review,” Isabel Silva and Daniela Costa write about the severe ramifications of graveyard shift work. When a person works overnight, they disrupt their circadian rhythm, the natural beat that tells a person when they’re tired and when they’re awake. Graveyard shift workers also tend to lose valuable time with friends and family.

Besides social and emotional consequences, night shift work can also be physically dangerous. The paper cites the graveyard shift for increasing workers’ risks of numerous forms of cancers such as skin, breast and digestive cancer.

Another hazard unique to the graveyard shift is the loss of attention to safety, decreased productivity and the increased risk of making mistakes while working. The paper cites the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear accident, which occurred during the night shift.

During the night, anything can happen, and night shift workers experience what that truly means. When most are asleep, they’re awake, serving late-night food, stocking shelves or welcoming nighttime travelers. It’s taxing work, but these industries rely on graveyard shift workers to keep things running around the clock.