I started working for pay when I was eleven years old.
August 22, 2007 (Wednesday) – I’m taking my cue for this blog from Dale Pogue’s The Muse Is Loose” blog. Yesterday he published an excellent article on “The Big Boss.” That set me to thinking about the jobs I’ve had.
My first paying job came to me when I was eleven years old. It was war time and the man next door had been drafted, so his wife told me I could have full use of his “victory bike,” a bicycle with solid synthetic tires. I got a job making deliveries for a pharmacy, but worked only a few days because my grandfather asked the boss to terminate my employment. My dear grandfather feared for my safety, because the streets were busy in that part of town. I could not understand his concerns then, but I understand quite well now that I’m much older than he was at the time. He had told me before, “Don’t ride a bicycle until you’ve learned how,” and “Stay out of the water until you’ve learned how to swim.” I called him, “Big Dad,” and so did the other kids in the family.
When I first got the job, my friend, Troy Conner, and I went to the Federal Building in Houston, and got our Social Security cards, without waiting in line or filling our a lot of forms. One man was behind the counter, and we were the only other people in the room. The year was probably 1943.
My next paying job was in the produce section of a grocery store when I was thirteen years old. My bosses were two brothers, who would give me conflicting instructions, but made sure I was always working. One of them made a fantastic buy in potatoes, so we had to make a place for a high stack of 100-pound sacks of potatoes. Well, soon a horrific odor was traced to the spuds. Naturally, the job of opening the sacks, removing the rotten potatoes, and washing the good ones, one by one, was given to the lowest ranked person on the job. Guess who that was? But I liked the job overall, and I think the bosses liked me.
After that, I worked in an estimated 25 jobs or churches until the present day. More about that tomorrow.
When God created the first man, he put him to work. Work was the man’s way of life before the fall. The fall of man made work hard and less enjoyable, but the work itself was his source of meaning and purpose for daily life. “The working man” is a phrase coined much later, and should be valued as a badge of honor. Laziness is to be conquered, as we remember Jesus taught us, “Work, for the night comes, when no one can work.”