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In the spring of 1985, at age 16, I got a work permit and landed a job scooping ice cream at $3.60 an hour—slightly more than the state’s $3.35 minimum wage.
Before then, I brought in cash by mowing lawns, cleaning rain gutters, and selling the Sunday papers (yes, Los Angeles had two major dailies back then). But with a car and college on the horizon, I wanted a stable income.
I kept my job search within walking distance of home, submitting two applications to start: one at McDonald’s, the other at a local chain drugstore.
Not hearing anything back from either, my dad and I revisited the drugstore. I talked to Frances, a clerk we’d known for years. Familiar with the inner workings of the store’s talent acquisition process, she led my dad and me to the manager’s podium at the front of the store.
Opening the podium’s lower cabinet, Frances pulled out a clipboard clutching dozens of paper applications. Once we found my application, she gently slid it out and placed it at the very top of the stack. “I’ll tell Mr. Sanchez about you.”
Within days, I was called for an interview, handed an employee handbook and a polyester uniform, and assigned a start date after school let out for the summer.
The summer heat brought long lines and some awkward interactions as I learned the ropes. I also had to build some arm strength: chocolate malted crunch and other popular ice cream flavors were hard as a rock when fresh from the walk-in freezer.
Still, the store became part of my identity. I went on to work at the photo counter, manage the candy inventory, and do other tasks.
Managers sought me out for advice on merchandising the store to local tastes and a customer once shared that she waited all week to ask an inventory question because she knew I would be there Saturday to give her a thoughtful answer.
A couple of years in, I mentioned to the store manager that I wasn’t climbing the union pay scale because I worked only part-time on weekends during the school year. Pay raises were mostly based on cumulative hours worked. She reviewed my file and saw I was making only about 50 cents more per hour than when I’d started.
Next pay cycle, she raised my pay to the top of the scale. I recall my new hourly wage as a “journeyman” clerk was just north of $8 an hour, closer to that of a full-time grocery clerk.
Suddenly, I was making more than I ever would have earned at a fast-food gig or at many mall stores back then.
The extra income boosted my college savings, especially when I worked full-time over summer break. I didn’t have to rely on financial aid and never had to take out a loan for college or graduate school. Upon graduation, I had money in the bank, a healthy emergency fund, and no debt weighing me down.
In all, I worked eight years at that store. Beyond the money and the strong financial starting point it provided, I see several life lessons in the experience, including:
The support of family, plenty of good luck, and the goodwill of others are also evident. Frances didn’t have to put in a good word for me, and management didn’t have to raise my pay.
Shortly after starting at the drugstore, I bought lunch at McDonald’s and was served by the manager I’d met months earlier. He asked why I didn’t submit the application I’d been given. I had.
That lost application ended up having a ripple effect. It led to a better-paying job, years of steady work, and a strong financial head start. Apparently, the inner workings—or shortcomings—of the fast-food talent acquisition process had worked in my favor.
My first “real’ job that wasn’t babysitting was at the local public library in my hometown. It was my senior year of high school, and I worked every day after school and a full day on Saturday. I got whatever minimum wage was in 1978–I want to say $2.50 an hour?
At the time, it seemed like stable income that I needed for spending money when I went to college the next fall. Your “networking” point was relevant in my case—my father was the president of the library board, and our family had made weekly Saturday morning trips as a family to stock up on reading for the week, so I definitely had an “in.” There was no asking for a raise, though—it was a public library and on a tight budget.
I agree with all four points you make in your essay. When my son was 15, he got his first job assembling bikes in a bike shop. That job put money in his pocket that was his own and gave him a skill that he could use at other bike shops until he graduated from college. Even better, it allowed his parents to help fund a Roth Ira that has grown considerably over the years. What it didn’t do was pay for his college education. When I graduated with a masters degree in 1972, the total cost amounted to about $10,000, much of which I paid for myself. Our son’s 4 years of college, on the other hand, cost $150,000 when he graduated in 2001. College today is unfortunately becoming an effort that can only be financed by families with means, or by substantial debt.
In ‘80 I graduated with 10K in loans, of course my first job only paid 13.5 K
Thanks for sharing your story, D.J. Very inspiring!
I appreciate the encouragement, SCao!
A little bit of Hollywood trivia for any film buffs at HumbleDollar: The Los Angeles intersection where the drugstore and McDonalds sit is where Henry Fonda’s Tom Joad is seen walking at the start of The Grapes of Wrath.
I just can’t believe you can all remember your hourly rate from that many years ago! I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night!
That’s too funny, Greg! My memory is pretty sharp, but I also saved a copy of the union contract booklet from all those years ago and was able to confirm those hourly rates.
Since age 8, I liked having money in my pocket. At that age I was the delivery boy for my Uncle’s Meat Market. My pay was $1 for all of Saturday, plus any tips. My transportation was my bicycle a shopping bag on each side of the handle bars. Then Newspaper boy, then checker of the delivery of each boys newspapers. Next, was stock clerk for $1.50 per hour at a grocery store, and I worked there part time from age 16 to 23! Also summer time jobs each summer in addition. I actually earned my way through college in 5 years graduating in 1969 with a BSEE from IIT in Chicago. I was very fortunate, as loans were not even discussed in those days. My Dad paid my first semester to get me started, and I commuted to school with COOP programs and working a lot in summer as well as always working part time at the grocery store. After that my Masters in Management was paid in full by my employer. Very fortunate to this day in Retirement at 80 years old and still some money in my pocket! I will bet this Humble crowd remembers slide rules for my engineering calculations!
William – I still have my Post Versalog slide rule. I earned my BS and MS degrees in mechanical engineering at NC State University.
There is indeed something special about always having money in your pocket, William. I’ve slept better knowing that there’s savings, over and above whatever’s in the checking account, to draw from in an emergency.
This is a great story. Thank you for posting it.
Your 4 points are consistent with how we run a service for researchers at a university. Networking is especially critical. People come to us because we get the job done. Or when we don’t know how to get it done, we know who to ask or who to send them to.
Thank you for the kind words. I like your point about getting the job done when people come to you. And if you can’t do that, finding the right resource is so important—but that seems to be increasingly a lost art in today’s world.
Nice article DJ. What sticks out to me from your article was the fact that a decent job for a young man or woman, in those days, provided enough income to pay for college. My older sister and brother, from about 1974-1981, were able to fund college by working as a life guard and lumber mill worker (respectively) and fund their college expenses. My brother’s union mill job, which he only worked in the summer, paid all his college tuition and living expenses for the whole year including his fun money. When my kids were getting ready for college, good ACT scores could garner much more in scholarship funds than they could ever earn working. I wish it were like the old days because, in many ways, it was more fair.
Thanks, Patrick. Yes, a lot has changed in terms of college costs and how to pay for them. My grades were strong, but I was never good at standardized tests, so it sounds like I’d be at a big disadvantage today.
We’ve discussed this before. When my wife, who is a few years older than I am, went to college, she was able to pay her way through college with restaurant jobs. When our kids were in college a decade ago, this was not possible.
Wages have stagnated.
College costs increased far greater than standard consumer inflation.
As for this story, there are far fewer small businesses now which build employee relationships. Especially drug stores.
So true. College costs have increased fast, and the pricing today is so opaque. You can’t realistically price shop because the price you’ll pay is certainly not clear before you apply to a school.
Nice post, D.J. I describe my first day on the job here. It didn’t go well, and I can’t say I came away from it with immediate lessons that I could apply to future work. I did eventually learn that the skills you number are important, however, and good advice anyone.
Thanks, Ed. I remember that story of your first job. There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but your lunch that day set you free.
DJ, I really enjoy your posts. I didn’t realize when it was happening, but looking back I can easily see how past experiences created ripples that shaped my future. There is honor and opportunity in all work, but it’s up to the individual to make the most of it.
Dan, thanks for the kind words. You noted that “there is honor and opportunity in all work.” So true, even if we don’t necessarily see it at the time. We experience, we endure, we learn, we share. And, with the right attitude, are hopefully strengthened by it all.
I don’t recall a time when I didn’t have a job. First the kids stuff raking leaves, shoveling snow, etc. Then in a pet shop after school and Saturday for $5.00 a week. When I could get working papers I worked in the city library for $0.75 an hour- below minimum wage. When I graduated high school, at the company where I would stay nearly fifty years, I was hired as a mail boy at $1.49 an hour just a bit above minimum. Thereafter it was a slow steady climb up. By the time I retired I was making more a minute than I made in an hour fifty years before (working minutes).
“By the time I retired I was making more a minute than I made in an hour fifty years before (working minutes).”
Now that’s a fascinating way to look at career growth!
It just popped in my head so I calculated it. 🤑
My first job was seasonal, running from age 12 to 16. I grew up near a local farm, and fortunately the peak harvest for early potatoes coincided almost perfectly with the school summer break. That gave me nine weeks of solid, gainful employment — because once the potato harvest wrapped up, the hay baling began, and after that came the straw baling. By the end of every summer I had a full bank balance and a strong, healthy body to show for it. More than anything though, it taught me the value of honest hard work — a lesson that has stayed with me ever since.
Some of my fondest memories are of sitting around the farmer’s wife’s kitchen table, where she’d pile our plates high with simple but delicious food to fuel the hard physical graft of the day.
I don’t think that kind of summer job really exists anymore. It’s all automated now, and I imagine health and safety laws would have something to say about children working on a farm the way we did.
“Some of my fondest memories are of sitting around the farmer’s wife’s kitchen table.”
You hit on something there, Mark. Our fondest memories of these early jobs have much to do with the people with whom we worked. I remember “pulling load” until 2 am and going to late night “lunch” at a coffeeshop with the team. There were also Christmas potlucks in the breakroom, the foods recalling holiday traditions from around the world. Breaking bread with people I otherwise would never have met left a lasting impression.
“I imagine health and safety laws would have something to say about children working on a farm the way we did.”
I tell people the story of when I was in high school I worked at the local hospital in the maintenance department. In the winters we would shovel salt by hand onto a pickup truck, then would stand on the tailgate and spread the salt while the truck was moving. I don’t think OSHA (the federal workplace safety department) would allow that now, plus I’m sure they have the mechanical spreaders.
David, you raise a good point. I still wonder how I never froze to death in the walk-in freezer as the door was easily blocked by merchandise on rolling cages in the hall outside of it.