Sunday, June 16, 2024

Father's Day - Early Jobs and Bicycles

 As we commence another Father's Day, I think about the importance and impact of having a father. During those early years, we lean on our Dad's for that guidance and support, even though we might not fully understand it yet. As the years go by, we slowly learn what it's all about. With Dad's mentoring, we transition into the successful young adult who is ready to take on the world.

My Dad thought me a lot of valuable lessons. He believed that a verbal agreement and handshake were as good as any contract. While he would learn later than it's probably still a good idea to get things in writing, he always held up his end of the bargain. But he always stressed that if you tell someone that you're going to do something, you follow through with it. 

My Dad worked most of his life as a carpenter. His talent seemed to come naturally as he picked up the skills quickly as a young adult. He tried his best to teach me all he knew about the trade. While I never matched his expertise, I still learned to frame a wall and trim out a room. When I was 16, my Dad got me a summer job with his company. The first week, I was given the task of cleaning up the job site. By the second day, the main foreman, a tough-looking older man, approached me. He said, "You're Ervin's son, right?"

"Yes, sir", I replied.

He asked, "What are you doing with a broom in your hand?"

I really didn't understand the question. So, I replied, "Um, I was told to clean up this area".

"Well, if you're Erv's son, I'm sure you know how to swing a hammer, right?", he asked.

I wasn't sure if I was in some kind of trouble. So, I elaborated, "Yes, sir. I've been working with my Dad since I was 12 years old. I can swing a hammer, lay out a partition, crown the joists, whatever you need done."

He smiled and said, "That's what I figured. Put the broom down and grab your hammer. Meet me on the other side of the house and I'll introduce you to the framing crew." 

And just like that, my Dad's reputation advanced me to the framing crew for the rest of the summer. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal. But at the time, for me, it was like Wolfgang getting bumped up to bass player on the Van Halen tour.

My Dad and I worked many jobs together through the years. And while he could be a hard-ass and we did argue a lot, I wouldn't have traded it for the world. 

We lived a modest life and my Dad never made a whole lot of money. But he was very frugal and knew how to stretch a dollar. While we had a great childhood, we never had anything that could be called extravagant. Well, at least not yet...

I remember one time a few years earlier, I was walking through Montgomery Ward with my Dad. As I passed the bicycle section, I had an epiphany. There, in front of me, was the coolest looking bike I had ever seen. I still remember that it was a commemorative edition in celebration of the 1976 Olympic games. It was a tan marvel of sheer beauty. I stood there like the kid in "A Christmas Story" gawking at the Red Ryder BB gun. My Dad approached a short time later and said, "Come on, let's go."

"Hold up, Dad. Check this bike out. Isn't that coolest thing you've ever seen?", I asked.

He gave it a quick glance and then his gaze fixated on the price tag. He replied, "That price ain't so cool. That thing is a hundred dollars, Kenny. You know how many hours I have to work to make a hundred dollars?'

And just like that, I had my own personal version of "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!'

On the way home, my Dad felt the need to offer me a consolation prize. So, he asks, "If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

I half expected him to turn the truck around and head back to Montgomery Ward. So, I instinctively blurted out, "A commemorative 1976 Olympic 10-speed!"

He smiled as he turned his truck into the Gino's parking lot. My Dad knew that the only thing that could rival my dream bike was a Gino Giant. So, we went inside and he ordered up two Gino Giant meals and we sat down and enjoyed them over a conversation about the Orioles. The bike wasn't brought up again.

Fast forward about one month later...

As I come home from a hard day of playing at that local park, I notice my Dad is working on something in his garage. This wasn't anything abnormal as he was always tinkering with something back there. I walked through the yard and made my way to the garage. I wanted to remind Dad that the O's game was coming on shortly. From a distance, I could see that my Dad was working on a bike. Now, I had an old Huffy bike that I kept in the garage. So, I figured maybe he was sprucing it up for me. But as I got to the door, I almost fainted. Lo and behold, it was my dream bike! 

While I was out at the park, my Dad made that elusive trip back to Montgomery Ward and bought me the bike. I swear, I almost cried. Because, even at that young age, I knew that money was tight. But my Dad got it for me anyway.

I just stood there in amazement for a minute. And then I asked, "I don't understand. What made you buy this?"

He just smiled and replied, "You're a good boy. And you deserve to have a nice bike. I want you to enjoy it."

That was one of the best days of my life. I rode the bike everywhere. I absolutely loved it!

The bike was eventually stolen and never recovered (a sad time., for sure). But the memories that it produced were priceless.

To all of the great Dads out there who have made so many positive impacts, I say thank you. And be sure to enjoy your Father's Day. You deserve it!

kw





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