Several years back, my wife Donna and our son Todd were visiting an historical museum. On the tour, a guide spoke passionately about how hard it was was for immigrants to overcome life’s 19th century challenges, such as poverty, hunger and unemployment. At that point, Todd commented to Donna, “I bet Papa would have found a way.” Donna said later, “It’s great that the kids see your father as so resourceful—and see themselves as able to follow his example.”
In Dad’s obituary, we noted, “He took avid interest and great delight in the unfolding lives of his grandchildren: one grandson said, ‘To us, he was a kind of human institution.’” The story of Dad’s first job was an often-repeated family tale (to us kids, it was just a routine installment in my father’s “net worth” lecture series, but his grandkids viewed it with amazement). Apparently Dad marched into a butcher shop across the street from his home, seeking work. The owner sized-up this pre-adolescent standing before him and said, “Sorry, sonny…I can’t hire you. You’re too young.” To which Dad replied, “Yes, but I’m very strong.” That same day, a ten-year-old Harold had his first paid gig delivering meat to the market’s customers.
Dad had 14 grandchildren, and it’s fair to say his work ethic passed down to his progeny. Some in this third generation have earned doctorates, several have law degrees, while others have distinguished themselves in finance, education, media and various creative or entrepreneurial pursuits. One grandson became a pilot at such a young age he was featured in a local news story. (Don’t mean to sound boastful, but since I can’t claim credit for any of my nieces’ and nephews’ accomplishments, I figure it gives me some bragging rights.)
Take Justin, my older brother’s son. His parents are graciously modest about his achievements. But in his young life, Justin has racked up the kind of successes a score-keeping, status-seeking parent would kill for. Multiple seasons as a three varsity letter athlete—with scholar athlete recognition in every sport, every season. Graduated high school as the top scholar athlete; his relay team’s 4X200 track record still stands. Inducted into the National Football Foundation and College Hall of Fame, Inc. as well as the National Political Science Honor Society. While president of his college fraternity he managed to attain another scholar athlete award and then go on to graduate magana cum laude (my brother Greg said the family didn’t even know about this last distinction until they read it in the graduation program—Justin is that unassuming.). Then he went on to law school.
Not surprisingly, Dad was immensely proud of Justin—who was in high school during Dad’s last years—and spoke of him often with great enthusiasm. But Dad never focused on the academic prizes, athletic wins or election to prestige organizations. Instead he was singularly impressed because during the summer…Justin worked in a deli.
“When you see people come in to buy a sandwich, you look them right in the eye, smile, and speak loudly and clearly,” Dad emphasized. “That boy Justin has a very likable smile, and knows how to speak to people while being polite and courteous. The skills enhanced by this young career have created a valuable stature that will enable him to get through the challenging hurdles of adult life.”
Another summer, Justin boosted his stock with Dad even further when he took a job as a greens keeper at a golf course. The advantage here? Justin had to get to work really early.
“Remember there’s always a whole world waiting to compete with you—and Justin is getting a jump start on it,” Dad would state emphatically.” In Dad’s mind, getting up early was a key ingredient to an ambitious, well-ordered work life. Needless to say, he had little regard for the kind of cushy internships that looked good on resumes but taught little about real-world skills.
At the time, my father’s “Justin works in a deli” diatribes made us laugh. What an unlikely focus, considering how much else Justin had going for him! But now I’ve come to think maybe Dad was right (as usual!) Academics certainly help you acquire knowledge, but work in the service industry can teach you how to deal with the public, think on your feet, tolerate frustration, solve problems, adhere to a schedule, work with a team—even accept being temporarily “low” in a hierarchy while having the goal of moving up. In Dad’s book, an entry-level job should teach you to come to work saying, “What can I do for you?” rather than “What can you do for me?”
Just recently, I heard a story about a young man who earned an advanced degree but is finding it tough to make headway in today’s economy. He finally got so disgusted he made multiple Xerox copies of his diploma—and as an act of ironic defiance he now uses them to wrap sandwiches at his present job.
In a deli.
Larry,
I loved the story. It resonated with me because my husband, who is an in-house counsel, repeatedly says the job that taught him the most about the workplace was his summer, teenage job as a short-order breakfast cook at Friendly’s.
Why? “Because I had to learn to work quietly, quickly, efficiently, and effectively under pressure.”
I always tip breakfast waitstaff well!
“I wrote a reply but it was eaten by the evil facebook monsters! I agree with your Dad’s great points about life!”
Been busy & just got around to reading this wonderful entry. Wow! That’s the spirit that my Mother would have said “won the west” – P.C. was Not in her vocabulary, either! If more young people followed your Father’s formula we wouldn’t be in this economic and social mess right now. I make it a point to let those people who are doing their hands-on, non-glamorous jobs to the best of their ability for me know how much their labor is appreciated – verbally & economically. Way to go, Dad!
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