My dad worked many jobs to support our family. When he and my mom moved to Miami after WW2, there was a construction boom and my dad, fresh from the coal mines of Pennsylvania and action in the Pacific, became a carpenter, an electrician, a plasterman, a plumber and anything else he could do to earn a paycheck. Ultimately, he bought a gas station and became an auto mechanic.
When I was about 12 years old, my dad tried to teach me the auto repair business. Every saturday he would wake me up at 6am to go to work with him. I hated every second of it and wanted to be at the beach on saturdays with my friends. Some of what he was trying to teach me must have somehow rubbed off on me because I have some small appreciation for how a car works and how to fix it. I also have all of my dad's tools now and everytime I go to change the spark plugs on my lawn mower, or grab a wrench to tighten a loose nut on my truck, I think of my dad and what he was trying to give me back then. Much more than learning how to fix a car.... but how to be responsible, work hard and appreciate getting paid for a job well done. Of course, I was just a kid back then and only appreciate what he was trying to do for me now that he is gone...
