TOLEDO — Long after the last employee shuts down their computer and the lights flicker off for the night, the work is just beginning.
Inside Toledo’s high-rise offices and public buildings at night, vacuums hum down empty hallways. Mop water sloshes against bucket rims. The air is thick, stale and warm. Air conditioning typically shuts off when tenants go home, so the night shift sweats through it.
They clean the messes no one sees—or cares to see—that are left behind. They disinfect bathrooms, polish glass, scrub floors, sweep salt, haul trash. Their fingerprints are wiped away before anyone notices they were even there.
Janitors, like Nadine Larde, are deep into their shifts before the Glass City wakes up…