I was 18, had just graduated from high school, and was en route to college in the fall.
I worked at a grocery chain, for money, of course, but mostly because it was easy.
I quit, and my father had mentioned there were roofing jobs available all summer weeks before. He worked with many contractors, so he knew many of the owners and powers that be at many companies. I hadn’t given it any thought really, but I now figured, shoot why not. Let’s give it a shot.
He reached out to a friend hiring and got me in the door. He did it, he figured, to show me what hard work was, and doing this for a summer, would tell me to work hard in college so I never had to do roofing again.
Clearly, that worked out well.
I loved the work. The sense of accomplishment, the passion for creation, and completion. Working with my hands, traveling, seeing all kinds of new places day in and day out.
Teamwork and comraderie with the guys, something missing from my life since highschool and team sports ended, was quickly found among the men who toiled long hours, hot days, and brutal conditions side by side.
Working in the industry for decades, in sales, on distribution, and representation most of his life, everyone in the industry knew my father. It was easy to see why someone would give me a shot.
He worked hard, treated people right, took great care of his family, and got lucky more than a time or two. He was always fair, and upfront. These are pillars of my professional and personal life now.
He got me my start, and our lifelong friendship blossomed into that of best friends. Talking shop, business, and industry regularly. Now three years after his passing, I find myself not only toasting to his memory each year, but living it on in my own actions and disposition.
So cheers, dad. I treasure you, and thank you for stumbling me into this career.
I miss you every day.