Continuing my Storyworth project, here’s how I answered, “What did you find surprising when you started your first job?”
Prior to my first full-time job, I had many part-time jobs that probably began working for my dad, who was a self-employed land surveyor and, during lean seasons, a part-time carpenter/ handyman. One of my earliest memories of “helping” him in this latter role was while he was doing some repairs to the front of a house. I was only five or six, but it was my first introduction to this pink stuff called insulation. I thought it looked like cotton candy, and for some reason—God only knows, although I don’t remember tasting it, I decided to rub it on my face. Yeah… That turned out to be a poor decision that both led to tears for me and regrets on my dad’s part for bringing me in the first place.
Later, at ages 12-14, amidst weeding, working on various farms, and mowing lawns, my dad started to have me join him cutting line in his surveying work. In order to “shoot” a line from a transit to a site rod or level, you had to first cut a line through the brush or woods with a curved brush axe. This was often through briars, laurel, wild rhododendrons (bouncy and difficult to cut), and lots of poison ivy, oak, and sumac. I can’t remember how many times I had cases of each before I began to know each plant like the back of my hand. Learning basics like “leaves of three let it be” helped me identify the plants early and do my best to avoid them. Then there was the work cutting through marshes with mosquitoes, strawberry flies, and greenheads. Some days and in certain places, it was hard to see or think straight with the sweat, Skin So Soft,[1] and the number of flies. Ticks were also prevalent in the woods of South Jersey, and this was all before the days when much was known about Lyme’s disease. Although most hadn’t bitten him, one of my dad’s co-workers recalls a day when he stopped counting after pulling more than a hundred ticks off. Pulling dozens off on a daily basis was a regular thing.
Things went uphill a bit when I got my first official part-time job, requiring working papers. I was 15 and interviewed for a stockboy position at a department store called Jamesway. Although I ended up being too young for this position (the law required that you be at least 16 for any job over 20 hours), since I had shown up with a tie and some half-decent manners, they gave me the illustrious job of building bikes. I got $3 for a tricycle or small bike and $5 for a ten-speed or adult bike. I didn’t make much, but I enjoyed the freedom of arriving early for my shift to play Pac-Man or watch late afternoon reruns of The Rockford Files. This was one of my first experiences working “out in the world,” and I think the diversity of people surprised my young, fundamentalist-church-kid self. I got along with most but learned over time that two of my favorite co-workers were gay, others were having affairs with managers, and a few girls tried to get me in the back stock room to make out. Again, I was very naïve, but thanks to God’s grace, good parents, and an authentic faith, I was able to avoid much of the dangers of these beginnings.
As far as a full-time job, my first was during my initial summer home from college. As a result of networking at my local church, I got a lead that a renovation contractor in the area, Bob Mixner, was looking for summer help. Having had some experience carrying bundles of shingles up onto roofs during my freshman year, I followed up and got the job. [Btw, that’s me in the pic above, bearded, standing next to Bob with the folding rule in his back pocket, and looking like I’m having a charismatic experience! The pics from a piece that our local paper did a few years later, on March 14, 1986, called “Meet the Contractors.”]
That summer, together with another kid from my church and an excellent cabinetmaker named Steve Sharp, we focused mostly on the restoration of a three-story Victorian home in Salem, NJ. I spent a lot of time going up and down various narrow staircases, carrying heavy equipment like table and chop saws, or debris from gutting various rooms. Due to the difficulty of many of my part-time roles, however, I was no stranger to hard work.
What did surprise me, was the satisfaction that came from honing and getting good at a skill. And how gratifying it was to see the fruits of your labor after a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. That summer, I learned, among other things, how to replace and glaze windowpanes, how to frame and hang drywall, a ton about painting, how satisfying demo could be, and the importance of wearing a dust mask!
There were also unpleasant revelations, like showing up at 7-7:30 every morning for work, whether you wanted to or not. Or extreme temperatures—especially the cold. I remember one job in particular on New St. in Bridgeton, NJ, where we spent a couple of weeks replacing wood siding in temperatures ranging from 10 to 20 degrees. On those days, what saved you were lighter fluid or charcoal handwarmers, layered cloths with coveralls, hot coffee on breaks, and lunches at 7-11 that included one or two microwavable red hot, big, beef burritos (great for cleaning out your sinuses!), a 32 oz. “Big Gulp” drink, and some kind of Hostess or Tastykake pastry.
In reflecting on the stories above, I’m reminded of an under-valued and underutilized aspect of the local church: It can be one of the best sources of job leads for the unemployed or under-employed. Additionally, I’m also reminded of where and when I began to first learn experientially the truth of several Proverbs, including:
- “Do you see a man skillful in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men.” (22:29, ESV)
- “A prudent person foresees danger and takes precautions. The simpleton goes blindly on and suffers the consequences.” (22:3, NLT)
[1] Skin So Soft is a bath oil made by Avon that was surprisingly effective as an insect repellent.