Workin’ for the Man – Part 11
My First IT Job
My programming curriculm at Trident Tech was focused on mainframe computing, hence my first IT job was as a mainframe programmer. This was the early 1990′s when the personal computer was just beginning to be considered a serious business machine more than a toy. Our labs at school were setup with new PCs setup with mainframe terminal emulation software. In fact, when I started my first job, I had never even seen a real mainframe terminal.
At Westvaco, right before I arrived on the scene they had replaced their mainframe terminals with PCs. So my coworkers were a bit out of sorts about it… trying to figure out how it worked. This turned out to be a great “equalizer” for me. The other programmers had much more experience than I, but they had no experience on a PC. So I felt like I was able to immediately make a contribution to the team.
As projects came along that involved using Windows, they would pass them off to me, and I was happy to take them. I was ambitious and ready to learn as much as I could. The future of computing was going to be something other than mainframes and I wanted a piece of that. The IT department provided many learning opportunities some of which were about databases. The more I learned about databases and SQL , the more I enjoyed them. Database design is about organizing information in logical ways which lights me up. I believe my affinity for database work is directly related to the satisfaction I received when I organized the bins at the sheet metal shop. It is just part of the way I am “wired”.
Trouble in Paradise
After a couple of years, I was moved under a different manager. Little did I know at the time that this move would lead to one of the hardest moments in my life. I was young and naïve and I operated from a belief that I could get along with anyone. My manager and I weren’t buddies, but I liked her ok and I thought she liked me. At some point, however, our relationship took a turn for the worse. I don’t know when it happened or why it happened, but I found myself in a position in which I could not please her. This was a real blow to me because I operated from a belief that I could make the best of any situation and I could make other people like me. I now know that as a classic example of codependency (sometimes, I think I could have been the poster child for Codependency).
Much to my dismay, our relationship continued to decline. Interestingly, I didn’t tell Jeanie what was happening for a long time. I was afraid that she would worry about my losing my job and I was ashamed and embarrased. In my mind, I was responsible for getting along with everyone. If there was a problem with my boss, it must be my fault. When I could not avoid it any longer, I told her and she was a real trooper. She was less worried about my losing my job and more concerned for my well being. I was so thankful to be able to vent about the situation and so thankful for her encouragement.
Things deteriorated to the point that I felt ill just going to work. If I had a meeting scheduled with her, I was a complete bundle of nerves. During this time, my friend, Curt, was a great encouragor to me. I called him often and he built me up. One day in particular, she called me for a one to one meeting in her office. On the way to her office, I stopped off at a conference room (I worked in a cube with no privacy) and I called Curt. I was so upset that I literally cried. He reminded me that my value was not dependent on my job. He reminded me who God said I am and he prayed with me. I don’t remember the manager meeting, but I will never forget that phone call. Thanks Curt. You are a great friend!
Eventually, I could not take the pressure any longer and I resigned from Westvaco. I did not like the idea of resigning with no prospects for another job, but I trusted that the Lord would watch over us. It was quickly apparent to me that the job market for programming was poor in Charleston and the pay scale was low. Things looked much better in Greenville, SC or Charlotte, NC, but I didn’t have the qualifications to move into those markets. While I was at Westvaco, I had gotten experience programming in PowerBuilder, which I enjoyed. PowerBuilder was becoming the standard platform for businesses everywhere, so that seemed like the ticket to better a better job for me. However, I needed more experience with the latest version.
SPA vs The Pig
I interviewed with the SC State Ports Authority (SPA) and Piggly Wiggly about the same time. I really wanted the SPA job because they were just beginning to use PowerBuilder and they were very interested in me. The computer systems and languages at the Pig were comparatively archaic, which was unappealing. However, the SPA was very slow to respond and Piggly Wiggly was quick to respond. Getting more experience with PowerBuilder was a huge desire for me, but the Pig was actually going to pay me real money to come work for them. My choice was made. You might say I was Big on the Pig.
Fun at The Pig
Right after I started at the Pig, they issued pagers to those of us who supported the inventory system. These were the fancy pagers that would recieve messages not just phone numbers. We had a program on our Unix system our customers could use to send us pager messages. Because the program was overly complicated the system admin wrote a little menu driven program that gathered all the information and sent the page for us. It prompted for your name, the name of the person you were sending the page and the message. Then it put it all together and sent the message to the pager. One day, I got curious about this program, so I went looking for it. I found the program and opened it up to see what made it go. While I was in there, I couldn’t help making a slight modification. I fixed it so that the signature of the message would include “Love, ” + your name. So if I sent a message to Bob, it would say
From: Jim
To: Bob
Blah blah blah. This is an important message…
Love,
Jim
All of a sudden the Piggly Wiggly warehouse got just a little bit cozier (or uncomfortable depending on who you were and who just sent you a message). At first everyone was wondering why their coworkers were being so friendly. I didn’t take long before they realized something was up. When they found the little modification, they all knew it was me. Everyone took it in fun.
Just a month or two into my job at Piggly Wiggly, I got the offer I had hoped to get from the SPA. This put me in the uncomforable position of wanting to take the SPA job but feeling an obligation to the Pig. Although I didn’t particularly like the work I was doing, the company was great to its employees and I liked my coworkers. To make matters worse, the SPA job would be a slight reduction in pay! However, in the long run, it would give me more of the skills I wanted for my career. I decided for the SPA job and made the move.
At the SPA, the wages were way lower than the industry average, but the benefits of working with the latest version of PowerBuilder supported my longer term vision of getting a better paying job in a better market. When I started, they told me that they were in the middle of restructuring their pay scales and were hopeful that my position would get a substantial raise when they were done. It was several months before they completed the pay scale review and restructuring. My “substantial” raise came to about $200 a year. A real joke. However, I had not gotten my hopes up, so although I was disappointed, I was not surprised. The morning after I found out about the raise, Jeanie had gone to Krispy Kreme for doughnuts for breakfast. When she arrived home, I fussed at her (as a joke) for spending my whole raise on doughnuts!
I did enjoy the work at the SPA. I was learning a lot and building the resume I wanted. One of the ammenities I enjoyed, working for the SPA, was the location. We were in the brick building right beside Waterfront Park in downtown Charleston. If you have ever been out on the pier where the big swings are or at the Pineapple Fountain, you were right next to my office. It was a blast to go out at lunchtime and eat on the park benches and walk around downtown.
Next time a relocation to Charlotte…
Workin’ for the Man Series
- Introduction
- Sheet Metal Mechanic’s Helper
- Music Librarian
- Brass Musical Instrument Technician (Apprentice)
- Tree Crew
- Rocko & House Painter
- Lynn Cove Viaduct
- Restaurant Business
- Anderson’s Music
- Back to School
- First IT Jobs
- Two Jobs & Move to Charlotte
Economic pressures caused me to think about my choices for a career. I was learning quickly that raising a family of four daughters is expensive! At the same time, I realized that my income potential was limited as an instrument repair technician. At the same time, I noticed people who were making lots more money than I, but who were not very good at their jobs. Over a two or three year period, thanks to these incompetent people, I gained confidence that I could make a career change. I thought to myself that there was no reason I could not do at least as well as these people. During that time, I swung back and forth emotionally between feeling that I loved what I did so much that it didn’t matter and realizing that if I didn’t do something soon, my family would be in for a difficult future. Family won. I decided to make a change.
One of my classes the first semester was Statistics. I enjoyed the class and I understood the material perfectly. On my first test, I got a C. I didn’t mind my grade being low, but the reason it was low bugged the crap out of me. I understood the material, I had made careless mistakes in my calculations. From then on, I changed my ways with test taking. My approach was to skip any questions I wasn’t absolutely sure of. When I finished, I would go back over the test and do those questions I skipped. When I finished that second time, if I still had time, I started over and checked my answers. Usually, I was the last one to finish each test… But there were no points given for finishing faster! I quickly learned the ropes and made straight A’s.
Another way I survived was by finding ways of combining studying with my other resposibilities. When I studied my text books, I took notes on 3×5 cards. I would outline the text and write words and definitions. Immediately after class, I reviewed my notes and copied them onto 3×5 cards too. I put a clue on the back side of the card, so I could use them as flash cards. After I finished making the flash cards, I put away the book and my notes. Everything I needed to know was on the cards. Every free second, I was studying those cards. When I stopped at a traffic light, the cards came out. At work, I had the cards out on the bench while I fixed instruments. I took the cards on outings and campouts with the girls. Wherever I went, the cards went. As I reviewed them, I separated out the ones I knew and kept the ones I didn’t know. However, I didn’t throw the ones I knew away, I saved them for the final review. For that final review at the end, I put all the cards back together to make sure I relearned anything I might have forgotten . It was a lot of work, but it was a perfect method for me. It allowed me to keep doing things that were important to me, while adding a huge undertaking to my life. In a way, I had my cake and ate it too.
In 
A music shop in Dallas, Texas had gone out of business and was selling all of their equipment and supplies. I approached my dad and we entered into a business partnership in which he would supply the startup money and I would make the business go. He was a silent partner and I was the managing partner. My friend, Mark S and I flew to Texas, picked up a big rental truck, loaded it with all the stuff and headed for Charleston, SC. That was a fun trip. Long… very long, but fun.
I knew that I would enjoy being workmates with Gene, but I had no idea what a great friend he would be. We worked side by side every day for over five years and we talked about anything and everything. Although he was Catholic and I was Protestant, we had a bond in the Christ that was very real. I don’t know anyone who loves Jesus more than he. This photo was taken a couple of weeks ago when Gene joined my family for Veteran’s Day concert at CSU where Danae is the principle flautist. It was great to catch up with him. I miss him terribly.
Once, a old beatup Tuba came in with the bell crunched and crinkled. It was full of cracks and holes that needed to be patched. Patching a brass instrument involves cutting a piece of brass a little larger than the hole, forming it to the shape of the instrument where the hole is and soldering it in place. This tuba was special because it had a lot of holes in the bell where the patches would be seen by everyone. So I got creative, I cut the patches in crescent moon shape and star shapes. Even though it was more work, it was worth it. That may be the only tuba in the world with the moon and stars in the bell.
While looking for my next job, I met a man who owned a small restaurant in Boone. The name of this restaurant was “Ham & Eggs”. When he offered me a job as a short order cook, I took him up on it. As a young man with a family to support and no marketable skills, anything that pays and is respectable would do. Ham & Eggs was laid out very much like a Waffle House (in fact, this location is now the Huddle House on Blowing Rock Rd). It was a long building with the cook (that was me) out front, booth seating and bar seating near the grill. I quickly learned how to cook eggs, pancakes, waffles and all sorts of sandwiches. I even learned how to crack eggs with one hand, a skill that I practice regularly to this very day!
I guess it goes without saying that this was not the most glamourous job in the world and I quickly grew to hate it. However, I believed that I was there because God had me there for a reason. Once I fulfilled my purpose, I could move on. In a way, it was another game… the “Figure out what God wants me to do” game. One night, while mopping the floor at the end of my shift, I remember crying out to God asking why he still had me there. Since I hated the job so much, I reasoned that He must be trying to teach me something. I was ready to move on to something new. In my mind, God’s will for me was a narrow path laid out that included all the little choices and decisions I might make. So my role consisted of simply waiting for Him to tell me what to do next. My view of what it looks like to follow God has changed a lot since then.
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I do not remember why I left the tree crew for Rocko. Maybe it was the off season. Maybe it was a desire to have a job that paid me money and didn’t require me to be out in the elements. Whatever the reason was, I took a job at a startup company (called Rocko) where we manufactured woodstove mats. These were made from a concrete coating over a composite board of some sort. We had two or three different patterns where we made them look like bricks or stone. The mats were used by consumers who had woodstoves to protect their walls from the heat without having to install real masonary walls.
At that time another guy in the church, Bobby, who was a house painter, said that he would hire me to help him paint. I had no experience painting, but I didn’t think it could be all that hard. I quickly learned that I was not a good painter. So, while I continued to paint, I also continued to look for something else. What I didn’t know was that Bobby was agonizing over what to do about me. On the one hand, he wanted to treat me in a Christlike manner, but on the other hand, his reputation as a painter was at stake and he couldn’t justify keeping me on. Jesus didn’t leave very explicit instructions on how to fire your friend.
Loblolly pines were easier to plant because they had a “tap root” that was stiff and pointy with hairy roots connected to it. So, you could plant a loblolly one handed (leaving the other hand free to hang onto the dibble. No double sticking the dibble. No two handed planting. No danger of “J” rooting. That’s why we only got 4¢ for these.
One of my favorite Jim stories was of a particular site we planted just west of Boone. It was a small knoll next to a garden. The farmer who owned the garden was plowing his field while we were planting trees. Each time we came around the hill, we would see him plowing the field. What was remarkable about his plowing was that he was using a horse. When we finished planting, we all took our lunches down by the garden to eat and watch him. He stopped to chat for a telling us the advantages of a horse over a power tiller. After a while, he asked if anyone wanted to give it a try. I wanted to, but I was afraid I would look goofy. After a minute or so, Jim stepped up and said he would like to try. He hooked up the straps and grabbed the plow and went for it. It was not so easy as the farmer made it look. The plow would not go straight and he couldn’t get the horse to turn. (The farmer called out “gee” or “haw” to get him to turn). I was right. Jim looked extremely goofy. However, that decision is one of my few regrets in life… not trying because I was afraid of what others would think.
One of my frequent commenters on this site (
When I was a teenager and thinking about what I wanted to do for a career, I knew that I had three loves (other than Jeanie, of course): Jesus, music and working with my hands. I can remember agonizing about what I was going to do for a living the rest of my life. I had just decided that music education was not for me, but what was for me? That was the question. The rest of one’s life at 18 years old seems like an awfully long time. My love for Jesus and my love for music seemed to add up to “minister of music”, but the thought of going down that path was not at all appealing. Even then, I was driven by a sense that being a serious follower of Christ should be able to fit into whatever career path one took. I knew that I could follow Jesus with my whole heart without having to work in a church for a living. Please hear my heart on this, I’m not putting down anyone who works in a church. I am saying that I was not interested in a professional ministry. That’s about me… as is the rest of my blog. My other choice seemed to be to combine my love of music with my desire to work with my hands. I put those two together and decided that more than anything, I wanted to fix musical instruments. That choice was not clear out of the blue however. In high-school, when the repairman from Fox Music, Mr. Maxwell, came to my school to do maintenance and repairs, I watched him as long and as often as I could. I also hung out with Roddy, who was a repairman of sorts at Leonards Music Store. They were both great encouragements to me… although Mr. Maxwell’s most heartfelt advice was to run from this career. He kept telling me that I would never get rich from it. What he really meant to say was that I could very well get poor doing it. He was right.
Each year, the jazz program brought in a world class professional jazz musician to do a clinic and play a concert with our band as the backup. They featured some really big names too. Each year, they rotated through the different sections of the band. My first year was trumpet year and they brought in 
Much like my first job, this was working for one of my dad’s sub-contractors. In the 1970′s we didn’t have flexible duct work like I see in houses today. Air Conditioning ducts were either sheet metal boxes that we had to custom make or hard sheet metal pipe. All the sheet metal and pipe was stored at the shop where we met at the beginning of each day. We, helpers would be assigned to work with a crew each day. Sometimes it was mildly interesting. Mostly it was hot, hard and miserable work. Even though we were working on AC, we didn’t get to enjoy AC for ourselves. I was paid minimum wage (about $3/hr) and with overtime, I could bring home over $100 in a week! That made it all worth while.
Once in the middle of the day, he was away and there were two or three crews at the shop making ductwork for our jobs… only we weren’t actually doing much of that. We were all sitting around or lying on the tables shooting the breeze. The owner drove up into the parking lot and everyone jumped up and started looking busy. Everyone but me, I should say. I wondered why the others thought we needed to pretend that we were busy when we weren’t. I guess I felt that we should be the same whether he’s around or not. Deep down, I can see that I had a good desire to be transparent. Had it been a perfect world, the incident might have turned out differently. As it was, I got an ass chewing that I won’t soon forget (it has been over 30 years). Although this probably wasn’t the message he wanted me to take away, I learned the importance of “not drawing attention to one’s self” and “always looking busy when the boss is around.” That lesson has haunted me ever since and has kept me from being as productive as I could be. I wish I could unlearn it easier.
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