I actually got around to following through on story #1, (much to my Brother's dismay), but have neglected to live up to my promise on story # 2. So here goes.
I've been fortunate in having some really great jobs during my lifetime. I enjoyed my time in the U.S. Army and the Texas National Guard. (That brings up some interesting stories that I may get around to telling you about sometime.) Now that may seem like an odd claim, but I truly did. When discussing our respective Army careers, my big brother Norvell always tells the story of Norris Pannel, a gentleman we grew up with in Camp Wood, Tx. Norris had the fascinating habit of asking you a question then answering his own question without hesitation, leaving you a little flummoxed on how best to converse. Once, when back in Camp Wood on leave, Norris asked my brother "well Norvell, how do you like the Army?" As Norvell was prepairing to answer, Norris smoothly continued by saying "Hell, Norvell, of course you don't like the Army. NOBODY likes the Army." But actually, I did like the Army. Of course in retrospect, that could have been because the Good Lord saw fit to time it such that Viet Nam was winding down when I received my bright, shiny butterbar of a 2nd Lieutenant at Texas A&M in 1970 and they didn't need my impressive military skills over there, and my many years in the Texas National Guard ended before our involvement in Desert Storm in 1990 and the many conflicts since then. My service time was generally spent in a time of stability and peace. I never served in a combat zone, like so many of my contemporaries who served in Viet Nam, and like the later group of fine men and women who served and are now serving our country in the Middle East and elsewhere. My hat will always be off to those who served overseas. My foreign duty was in the lovely spot of Fort Huachuca, Arizona. But I liked that job, Norris, I really did.
I spent some time trying to make my fortune as a landscape contractor in southeastern Arizona during 1972-1974. That was a good job and I don't know that I ever worked harder at trying to keep our company going and profitable. We did some really quality landscape work for some clients, but it didn't work out, and I came back to Texas after a near-bankruptcy with my tail between my legs. I learned an awful lot in that job, and I thoroughly enjoyed it too.
I spent a little time in 1974, desgning golf courses for a great Landscape Architect who had a contract to design for Lee Trevino. Mostly, I was a glorified draftsman, but I enjoyed that job, as short as it was.
I spent almost 30 years with the Texas Department of Transportation, serving as a Landscape Architect and a vegetation manager. Most of the folks in TxDOT called me and my Landscape Architect cohorts "pansy planters!" That's OK, because I liked that job and served with some truly fine folks (and also with a few who were ..... well, you know.)
Currently, I work for the University of Texas at Arlington, serving as a curriculum manager and instructor. I know you need to be careful talking about your employer in today's instant world wide web communications and social media world, but this has ALMOST been the very best job I have ever had. I truly like what I'm doing, and more importantly, I get to work with some of the most impressive folks I have ever seen.
But the ABSOLUTE BEST job I ever had - (God, Paul - it sure took you an awfully long time to get to the point of your story...) - was working for Mr. Jim Webb on his place between Camp Wood and Barksdale while I was barely in high school.
This isn't a picture of Mr. Webb's place, but it is indicative of the beautiful Nueces River which flows adjacent to his property.
My Dad, Si, had a contract with Mr. Jim to do several things around his place. We poured concrete slabs and extended his barn; we dug septic tanks; we added rooms, we hung sheetrock, taped and floated and painted rooms. I say "we", but it was actually Dad who did most of the work; I mostly goofed off as lots of teen-agers are wont to do, thinking that I had a cush job and was getting paid pretty well to do it!
One day, Mr. Jim, who was as nice and as honorable a man as I ever knew, walked by while I was "working," and after visiting a bit, casually asked, "Whatcha' doing, Paul?" Without thinking, I answered "Oh, not much, Mr. Jim." Mr. Jim just smiled and went on about his business.
Later on that day, my Dad came over to me. I could tell he wasn't happy, but he wasn't mad; I don't know if I ever saw my Dad mad in my life. Sure, he would get frustrated when a nail he was hammering in bent, saying something like "...those dadgummed Belgian nails." But his look was different than I had ever seen. He said, after a pause, "Son, I've got to fire you" in a soft, matter of fact voice.
Basically, Mr. Jim went to Dad and told him that he would not pay the wages of anyone who would not work. I simply was not working so he told Dad to not bring me back to work tomorrow.
The strange look on Dad's face was disapointment. And upon reflection, and after my initial teenager indredulity tempered, his disappointment in me and at having someone else point out to him my poor work ethic and performance, was the worst thing I could imagine.
It was a long 2 miles home that afternoon in the pickup, after Dad's work day ended. I had plenty of time to think about what had happened and why it happened. Mr. Jim had truly done me a favor. And even though Dad hated to do it, he knew it was absolutely the right thing to do as well. Being fired from that job was the best thing that ever happened to me. It helped reinforce in me the absolute necessity of doing the best you can at whatever you do. An old saying then, and perhaps still one today is "an honest day's work for an honest day's pay." Maudlin, perhaps, but it has served me well since those days in the 1960's.
Thanks Mr. Jim. Thanks Dad.
Now, remind me to tell you the story about STEALING A DISCUS!
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