My Dad

My dad dropped out of H.S. at 16 to join the Navy. The war ended the next week. He spent the next 2 years dispensing penicillin to sailors returning from shore leave in Puerto Rico. He spend the rest of his life working hard, usually at 2 jobs to support a wife (she worked too,) raise 5 kids, get a house in the suburbs and put all his kids through college. He never had a job he didn’t throw himself into fully and he had MANY jobs, machinist, welder, salesman, grocery cashier and stationary fireman. He taught me that all work had intrinsic value as long as it was honest. (Actually I’m pretty sure dad never used the word “intrinsic”)

I have worked at Arbys, in an x-ray darkroom, for the Burlington County Mosquito Commission in the swamps, a camera salesman, a cook at Denny’s, I have taught music at more schools than I can count (at one time I was working in 11 schools simultaneously,) I have worked in group homes for the developmentally disabled at minimum wage and I have established group homes for geriatric developmentally delayed men coming out of state institutions, I have been a Caseworker for NJ Division of Developmental Disabilities, done phone intakes for people who want to get off SSDI, scored standardized tests for up to 17 hours at a stretch and worked with math teachers from Maryland and Connecticut to determine the scoring rubrics for their state math tests… and I have worked here. (I know, I know, obviously, the man can’t hold a job…)

Because of my dad, I believe every day I have ever worked was important to me and to the others that my work touched. Everybody’s work touches others every day. People would get in the longest line at Pantry Pride in Delran so my father could be their cashier. I saw that and knew he was right.

Every EIN is my dad, or my wife, or my kid, or my friend. That’s what he taught me.