Most of my relatives worked until they died or until they fell apart. When I do my semi-annual walk to clean up overgrown gravestones I'm reminded of what they did for 'work.' Few had any significant leisure activities or memorable vacations. It seems like the pleasure in life was "a good steak at the Legion Club" or a new winter coat.
Uncle D**
D**, like most of the men in my family served in WWII. Prior to the war he had a job in a lumber yard. After the war (Army) he and his brother (who was in the Navy) partnered up with their father. Their father was a Danish immigrant and a good entrepreneur starting an ice business. Hauling vast amounts of heavy ice from the lake started to wain after the war as the industrialized nation started to crank out refrigerators rather than weapons. Moving heavy stuff led to moving houses. D** and his brother worked well into their sixties being the only moving game in town. It was dangerous, hard work. They survived. D** died withing six or seven years of retiring. All of the conversations and time together was sprinkled with descriptions of moves done and customers.
Uncle R**
I'm not totally familiar with this uncle. He was married to my father's sister, H****. A bit older he may have been too old for WWII. He either received an early discharge or worked as a civilian in Greenland during those years. Following the war he worked at Queen Stove. This company purchased the American Gas Machine Company, was purchased by King Seely Thermos and through various mergers, acquisitions and sales became the largest manufacturer of ice machines in the world, know as Scotsman. R** worked in the manufacturing plant in Albert Lea, was a nice guy and had a propensity to lift heavy things and hurt himself.
Aunt H****
H****, like her husband R**, worked hard. They were both drummers and my recollection from long ago is of cars, always carrying drum sets. She had a great laugh, was well know, loved her family and would give you the shirt off her back if needed. Much like her father, there was a compulsion to entertain, to converse and be kind. She was drumming at her 85th birthday. My father died at much too young an age but I think H**** and my father would have been quite the party. I have to counter my comment about lack of vacations. She did travel to New Zealand to visit her oldest son, and I have a picture of her and Princess Diana taken while there.
Uncle E****
A former professional wrestler, this guy had a thousand jobs, his entire work and personal history quite shady. The trunk of his car was always full of stuff, guns, fishing gear, tools, etc., and it was always changing, always for sale. For a time he owned a resort in northern MN but his bread and butter was to work as a welder, feign injury and collect worker's compensation. He was probably a step ahead of the law. He was a bad, negligent father.
Aunt R****
My father's younger sister was married to E**** until they divorced to get more Social Security. I have no recollection of her working but simply listening to my uncle drone on about one scam after another. They had two children. They were not great parents. The daughter left home and lived with my grandfather. The son followed in his father's steps, much better practiced in 'making deals.'
Grandfather A******
Self-taught as a high pressure boiler guy he progressed from working at a small town power plant to being the head building engineer for the local school district. He knew a lot of practical things about power, plumbing, electricity, etc. Following his retirement (I believe the school district forced him out) he started a small business repairing mechanical clocks and did that well into his eighties.
Aunt O****
O**** was a school teacher back in the day, in a small 'country school.' At the time you needed to be a high school graduate and have a year of 'teacher's education.' When my grandmother abandoned her family, O****, who was adopted and older than the other children, quit her teaching job at nineteen or twenty and became the home maker and lived out her life living with my grandfather, really without much in joy, love or possessions.
Uncle M***
Another WWII uncle, this one was a cook in the Navy in the South Pacific. When he came home his dream was to be his own boss. There had been enough taking orders during the war. He worked double shifts as a meat cutter in the local slaughterhouse, saved up enough to start his own small cafe and a few years later opened a small offsale liquor store. A shrewd and hardworking businessman he did well but died just a couple of years after selling his business he'd built over twenty years of many, many hours.
Grandfather F***
A Norwegian immigrant who left poverty at age 21 and came to "the new world" he was happy to work his whole life, always saving before spending on his four daughters. He first worked for a decade as a hired hand on a farm. Later, renting a farm he gave up when his third daughter was born, stating "you can't farm with girls." Moving to town he worked at the slaughter house chasing cattle up a six story ramp to the the kill, many times every day, losing an eye in the process, working until 72, looking 20 years younger. He lived frugally until leaving at 100, the only day he did not feel like getting out of bed.
The meaning of this...
My intention (while at the 27-year gig) was to work for a few more years, perhaps cutting back to three or four days per week and wrapping it up about age 70. While I spoke of leaving early my concern was that two or three years after leaving I'd just tip over, too, so leaving seemed like a bad idea. None of my immediate relatives attended college, for the most part they worked with their hands and on their feet. Throughout high school and before and during college I followed that same track, working in a manufacturing plant and even spending time in the slaughter house. All were good experience jobs and I regret none of it. The fortunate aspect of the 27-year gig was that it opened my horizons in the kind of work I could do. Now having said that, in retrospect setting higher goals might have been better. My almost two years of 'not being employed' has been refreshing and has reminded me of opportunities open and activities that warrant my time that are not compensation-rewarding although some are.
A good friend of mine and I recently had a conversation that centered around the topic that we had always needed to work. Our families were clearly blue collar. We found our way to college with little encouragement and no financial support. When our peers went off to spring break in Florida or bumming around in Europe we were groveling for jobs and money to get through the next nine months. My wife and I talk about breaking the cycle which is actually the cycle of children being raised (barely) in the shadow of their parent's lives, without the ability to step out of that shadow. We managed to do that and our children have managed to step or fall out of our shadows, probably on better paths than we were at the same time. So...I think part of my remaining life's work is to help a few others, to put some light into the dark corners of their lives. It's not all about working until you die.
