Finding Direction

Work, College, Trade School or Military?

Who knew????

I graduated from high school in 1961. Back then, I was smart enough to do the bare minimum amount of schoolwork required so I could have the maximum amount of fun. I got good grades, but I never seriously thought about college. I was just going through the motions, floating along with no real interest in sports or academics. I didn't have the financial ability or a scholarship to go to college, and looking back, that definitely had an impact on my path.

To get to the upper echelons of management in a major corporation, you usually needed that college degree. I don't even remember knowing anything about trade schools back then, so that wasn't an option either. So there I was: working a job that wasn't filling my bucket, with no degree, no trade, and no real plan.

Major Influence

Cousin Ron Horvath

Ron grew up with a loving mother and a very mean and demanding father. He was the oldest son, and probably took the brunt of his father's meanness, but Vi, Lenny and Danny also were affected. Despite the tough environment at his home, Ron and I were always good friends. Our families would periodically get together on Sundays, and the two of us would spend hours doing typical teenage boy things. When Ron eventually joined the Marine Corps, I've always suspected it was mostly just to get away from his father.

Four years later, he was honorably discharged as a Private First Class (E2), got married, and settled in Chicago. We rekindled our friendship, and I spent a lot of time listening to stories about his ventures in the Corps. He had a habit of embellishing the good times and glossing over the tough stuff. Then again, Ron was the tough stuff—which was pretty evident the two times he got demoted for kicking ass. If he had actually wanted to, he could have been a model Marine and made Sergeant Major (E9). Hearing about one of his last tours in Hawaii was what finally did it for me; I was completely sold.

He was smart, and strong as a bull. He made a living as a driver and a mover, and I once watched him carry a refrigerator up an outside staircase straight into an apartment all by himself. Unbelievable. He drove for decades, moving people from one end of the country to the other.

When he was back home, he tended to run with a tough crowd. For a while, I got sucked into that world, but it was a lifestyle I just couldn't sustain. Through it all, though, no matter what paths we took, we remained lifelong friends.

Sandy's Donuts

During the summer of 1961, I started working with my dad, driving a van and delivering bakery goods. Dad wanted to make extra money, to get ahead so to speak, so he took a part time job on weekends at a bakery. He was hired to deliver bakery goods to businesses for them to sell. He needed to get up at 3am to get to the bakery early enough to deliver the fresh, hot yummies. Months went by and then he asked if he could establish a home delivery, after the business deliveries. That business grew fast, he bought a Ford econoline van and set up racks for the product.

When I graduated high school he asked me to join him. I agreed and he bought a second van for me to start a second route, soon he needed another driver. I built my route quickly but hated getting up at 3am, seven days a week. While I genuinely enjoyed the selling aspect of the job, I still wasn't thinking about my long-term future. I didn't think of it as a career—I was just trying to help him out.

Choices

For a long time, I felt it limited my ability to advance. To get to the upper echelons of management in a major corporation, you usually needed that college degree. I don’t even remember knowing anything about trade schools back then, so that wasn’t an option either. So there I was: working a job that wasn't filling my bucket, with no degree, no trade, and no real plan.

I knew I was headed in the wrong direction. I had worked with Ron a few times moving furniture, but I quickly figured out that kind of work wasn't for me. Realizing I needed a drastic change, I joined the United States Marine Corps at eighteen years old.

A Life-Changing Decision

On November 20, 1961, I made a decision that would change my life forever: I joined the Marine Corps. I went home, told my dad the news, and gave him five days' notice. My cousin Ron was interested in working for my father, so Dad hired him and all was good.

The next morning, before the sun was even up, I drove to Kenny's house. We didn't have the "Invisible Tools" of texting or cell phones back then, so I did it the old-fashioned way—I climbed onto his garage roof and knocked on his bedroom window. A groggy Kenny opened the glass, and I delivered the news. His response was instant: "I'm coming with you.". By the end of the day, we were both signed up. I chose a three-year hitch, but Kenny wasn't quite as lucky—the recruiter talked him into four.

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