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Football
and games
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I remember
the long days with nothing to do. Days when Clifton
McRoy and I would talk football as young boys. I was
a huge Alabama fan and he was a big fan of Ol Miss.
His hero was Archie Manning. A name that actually
turned to legend due to his survivability and through his
sons. We spent untold numbers of hours talking
football. The best way to waste a day was with the
electric football game that he had. Amazing how
fantasy can take over as a young kid. A silly game
with a vibrating board and men that "vibrated"
the planned plays that we created. I look back at it
now and realize how funny it is. Pinning your hopes
on which way 22 pieces are going to go when the giant
earthquake is going to start. Wasted days and make
believe. Where did it go?
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Third
grade... late 1964
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Third
grade at Rocky Ridge elementary. The school, the fun
I had and the feelings that to this day I still feel when
I think back on that time in my life. A good time, a
time of innocence, a time of being surrounded by love and
encouragement from my parents. The friends we had,
the Dickens, and our dog, Chip. I had a great family
with my sister Lorie and younger brother, Keith.
Unlike most kids my age who didn't care to be seen with
their siblings, they were my best friends. It made
for great memories. Memories of my dad skating with
us in the church parking lot, memories of my once being
sick and writing poetry to my mom about how much I loved
her. I remember all of us having pink eye at the
same time and being in bed sick together with mom
taking care of us.
I guess I
was also a little wild at times having hurt both Keith and
Lorie while playing to hard. I remember Keith
breaking his arm while I was playing with him one
night. He was a tough little kid. He broke it
and didn't even go to the doctor for several days. I
remember shaking a small tree he was in while playing in
the woods one day and he fell out busting his head, again
requiring another trip to the doctor. Then one day
while my cousins from the Carolinas, the Frates ,were down
for a visit. All the kids were out front hitting a
baseball, when Lorie walked up behind me while I was
taking a swing with a baseball bat, and I hit her in the
forehead....another trip to the doctor.
We lived in
a small house next to a church on a corner. From our
house we were able to see the school that I attended that
was on the next small hill. I would walk to school
every day along with my friends. Now that I
think about it, with the exception of the first grade, I
walked to almost every school I attended, no matter the
distance. I walked everywhere, I was a strider, one
meant to walk the earth. It was my personal
challenge, no distance was to great, never would I walk
less than full speed, and never would I show anyone that I
was tired. The short kid with the long
strides.
One memory
I have of the third grade at Rocky Ridge was the day my
new baby sister, Leslie, was to come home. I was
eight and I had a new "baby" sister. Lorie
and Keith already had made their mark on my world and I
was so excited that my new sister was coming into our
lives. Mom had been gone at the hospital and I
couldn't wait. I remember walking to school that
day, thinking of what she would be like, telling my
friends of my new sister, who I hadn't even met yet.
As the day went on, the routine of school set in and I
didn't dwell on the new arrival.
I was
sitting in class daydreaming, looking out the window, when
I happened to see a car pull into our short driveway, up
to the house. Then I saw my mom and dad get out of
the car, with mom holding something. Then it struck
me, the excitement took over, I realized it was my
sister. I was so excited I didn't know what to do,
but I knew I had to be home. I had never done
anything wrong, never broke a rule or resisted
authority. It was my day to act. I raised my
hand, quietly asked my teacher if I could go to the
restroom and got up to leave the room. I remember
that as soon as I stepped out of the room and the door
closed behind me, I started running. Running down the
hall, running out the door, running down the long drive to
the main road, across the street and up the hill to our
house. My sister was home. Nothing else in
life mattered, I was going to be home with my
family.
She was
special to me. As an eight year old I took to her,
the newness, the wonderment of new life. I was at an age
that I could just begin to appreciate new life,
helplessness and the caring needed to survive.
I remember having Lorie and Keith convinced that I could
understand her and that we could talk together in baby
talk. It was a good time in my life, a good time for
all of us. I never wanted anything to
happen to her, my sister, Leslie.
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Parker
pens.... acceptance |
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I remember moving to Vestavia Hills, south of
Birmingham. I was 11 and starting the 6th
grade. It was an area with affluence, an area that
was growing, an over the mountain community. I
remember starting this new school, being different.
I was an outsider, having constantly changed schools from
year to year it seemed. It was my sixth school,
starting my sixth year. I never had problems
adapting before, but this was the beginning of
change.
As with
each generation, there is always a symbol of status.
A symbol of possession that sets you apart from all
others. In 1967, in the sixth grade at Vestavia
elementary, the status symbol of the time was your
collection of Parker Pens, the unique pen with the arrow
design on the clasp. The expensive pen, not a Bic,
not the cheap and affordable one. It had to be a
Parker. The other kids had nothing but Parker
Pens. I remember not having one. Most of
the kids had a few. Some kids, those who
deemed themselves as special, would show up with
their school boxes full of them. Those kids had
money and status.
I felt out
of place because of a pen. Small things in life that
can worry a child. Small things that make it hard to
be accepted. When you take time to look at life, you
start to notice how many people still live to collect
items, items that mean nothing when you stand back to look
at it.
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JFK....where
were you? |
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November
22, 1963. Where were you? Where were you when
JFK was shot? Do you remember?
We
lived in Green Springs, on the south side of
Birmingham. I was seven years old, in the second
grade, going to school at Alley Elementary when it
happened. It was a brick building on the top of a
hill, next to the local armory. We lived only a few
blocks from the school. It was my time of innocence,
my time to play, my time to have fun with all of my
friends. The Mullins sisters, all four of them were
my special friends. I used to go home every day
under the care of our maid Della. I know that the
term maid may not be politically correct at this point in
time, but in the early sixties it was the correct name to
use. To me, she was a part of our family. She
took care of us while our parents worked and disciplined
me when needed. I remember every time a thunder
storm with lightening was near, she would turn out all of
the lights in the house and make us crawl under a
table.
I was
walking home with my friends that day, down the hill from
the school. I'll never forget, the sun was
shining, it was a nice day. One of our friends
ran up to a group of us walking together, all excited, to
tell us that President Kennedy had been shot. That
he had been killed. We really didn't know the man,
but we knew he was important. I remember being sad
and that we didn't say much to each other on the way home.
My daily
routine at the time was to go home and watch
television. All of my favorite shows were after
school. The Popeye show with Cousin Cliff Holman, the Bozo show,
the Three Stooges, all my heroes
and cartoons were shown each afternoon. But this was
different, the president had been killed. The
cartoons were gone. For three days, I remember the
frustration of not being able to see my cartoons and
afternoon shows. I remember watching the news, my
first time to ever really watch anything real. I
remember the horse with the backward boots. I
remember the little boy saluting his father. I
remember his pretty wife, strong and sad.
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The
Teen Exhibit |
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Walking
through life |
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My early
years in elementary school were marked with long miles of
walking. It seemed that everywhere I needed to go, I
walked. Living in Rocky Ridge, if I couldn't walk to
where I needed, I didn't go. Even as a young child
it was nothing to walk a couple of miles to see a
friend. I remember the last house we lived in, on a
hill, I had to walk close to two miles to school and home
every day. No ordinary walk, but one that I really
enjoyed. It was a walk through the woods. Down
the hills and across paths that most people didn't ever
know about. I don't think my parents would have
labeled me as a child that longed to stay
indoors.
When we
moved to Vestavia, I walked two mile daily to go to school
there. It was there that I took a personal challenge
to walk at a fast pace every day. I learned to walk
fast, with long strides, even with my short legs. I
learned to create power and couldn't stand to go
slow. I soon learned to take pride in my ability to
move quickly and get anywhere I needed. No friend
was to far for me to visit. This thought process
followed me all of my life. That may lead to my
understanding of my like of my job. My career
involves so much walking and observing, I just seemed a
natural fit. To this day, I am always on my feet,
always walking, always in long, swift, powerful
strides.
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Our
neighborhood.....Clermont Drive |
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I spent my
early teen years growing up on Clermont Drive in
Homewood. My dad used to say we grew up under
Vulcan's ass. The grand statue of Vulcan was at the
top of the hill on which we lived, overlooking the
valley where the city of Birmingham is found.
His ass is turned towards Homewood, possibly
representing some form of symbolism that was lost on
me all those years. My dad sure seemed to have
caught on to that one, though. We had Vulcan's ass
facing us from one side and three large churches at the
bottom of our hill. We were surrounded, no way out,
Dawson Baptist, Trinity Methodist and Our Lady of
Sorrows.
My running buddies were the guys on the
street, my neighbor Ricky Seales, Clifton McRoy and Keith
Roberts. These three were my friends, all fun, yet
all so very different. Ricky was the bully, the one
who never was excited and always seemed bored with
everything. Keith was the a fun loving fella who was
a great student of the Three Stooges. He was the
sound effects guy that could mimic anyone or
anything. He was our neighborhood prankster.
Clifton was a pretty smart guy, a rock specialist and the
only Ole Miss fan I ever knew. Archie Manning was
his hero. I would be shocked if he didn't pursue his
love of geology at some point in his life.
It was a
safe neighborhood with neighbors that we all knew.
We knew everyone on our street, the Zeiglers, the Grays,
the Whites, the Glass family, the Donahoo family, the Cook family with
Marty and Chris, two of the fastest guys I ever chased.
The Runyons behind us and the incredible Robin Adams at
one end of the alley behind our house, with the Fogleman
family, with Wesley and Brenda, on the other end. It was a
place that was safe to play, with many summer nights
being spent out in someone's yard till late in the
night.
We did all
of the stupid things that kids do, chasing each other,
wrestling, fighting, talking about life. One summer
we built underground forts with connecting tunnels in the
woods behind Keith Roberts house, a great accomplishment and a
great secret club that we enjoyed. If we had to go
anywhere, we were quick to jump on our bikes and ride for
miles for any and every reason available. We spent a lot of
time exploring the woods behind the junior high school,
which had yet to be cleared to make Valley Avenue and the
many apartment complexes that were built there over the
years. I remember the day the bulldozers showed up
clearing our woods, trails and caves. It was a
horrible sight to witness. I did all I could
to stop the progress, but the machinery was bigger than I
would ever be. We loved to explore the woods.
There were many rock formations overlooking valleys that
were great places to hang out. There were also the
old entrances to several of the old Red Mountain ore mines
from years before. It was an act of courage to pass
through a dark entrance and walk into the center of the
earth. It was a great time of freedom and
exploration for all of us. It was the beginning of
an end to my innocence. The move from childhood
through puberty. The beginning of the complicated
life that we all find.
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My
first car |
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The day my parents gave me my first
car, what a great day as a young man that was. I had no
idea that I was going to get one. I had just turned
16 when mom and dad took me for a ride. We stopped
at in front of a house in Edgewood and got out of our
car. We walked over to a car when they shocked me
and told me that the care we were looking at was
mine. I never expected it, I had no clue. They
had done the unexpected. As much as I hated to show
emotion in front of my dad, I couldn't fight back the
emotion of such happiness and shock that I started to
cry. It was an old light blue Dodge Coronet.
It was an old car, but it was in great shape and it was
mine. I was so afraid to drive it. It was the
beginning of my freedom.
I was
excited to take it to school the next day. I now had
a way to get to school and to take my friends with
me. I'll never forget when I told Robin Adams that I
had a new car. She asked me what I had and I told her a
Coronet. We were at school and I asked her if
she would like a ride the next day. She said yes, I
knew I was king. The next morning I was overly
excited as I drove around the block and pulled up in her
driveway. She stepped out the door and I can almost
remember the look of shock on her face. I didn't
know what was wrong, but it didn't matter to me, I was on
top of the world.
She opened
the door, sat down, and looked over at me, saying, "I thought
you said you said a Corvette". I quickly
replied "No, a Coronet, a Dodge
Coronet". It was my first of many
disappointments with women.
Could they
have been right in
the movies, that the car makes the man?
To heck
with the women, I loved my car !
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Night
riding....."Go, Jim Dandy, go"
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Four high
school teens, one car and unlimited energy. Many
times when you find that combination you have a disaster
in the making. My nights never resulted in any
disasters, just a lot of teen fun. The others in the
car included Jeff Baughn, Steve Boone and Conrad
Haden. We were all in band together and we were the
high school stage crew. I don't know how that
happened, but we just seemed to take over. Steve was
a natural on stage crew. A stage, some lights and a
sound system, all he ever needed. He is one person that I
can say that took advantage of the lessons taught by his
father. He was comfortable in building and in
handling tools. In that world at school, we
were comfortable. There was no limit to the
situations we created.
Steve was
usually the driver, in his dad's blue, early 70's, Chevy
Nova. Night rides, drinking beer, playing
foosball, blue lights, great music. I often
thought Steve had a natural calling as a stock car
driver. He could drive that car through any street,
trail or alley. There was no match to be found
anywhere. Turn on the radio, turn up the Black Oak,
and hold on, you were in for the ride of your life! We
were kids, reaching out, avoiding boredom at home,
exploring our new found adulthood. Playing foosball
at all the great smoke filled foosball joints. Steve, the
front man, me, the back man. Beating all of the
college students, taking no prisoners. Those were
times that made great memories.
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Jim Dandy
to the rescue |
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Jim Dandy
to the rescue |
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Jim Dandy
to the rescue |
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Go, Jim Dandy, go, Jim Dandy |
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The
Parent Wing |
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Krista...first
home |
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She was so
small, the light of my life. I was a young father,
very much loving my daughters. Krista was my first
and I loved doing little things for her to make her
smile. I remember one day, when we were in our first
home, Krista was not home and I started to set up the den
in our house to surprise her. She loved her toy
animals. She had so many of them, all with names,
all that she loved as her friends. I took her
animals and placed them all around the room, all in
positions of importance, all looking at the door. I
knew that when she came home she would be
surprised.
I waited
and waited for her to come home. She finally
arrived, stepped through the door, and when she saw all of
her animals arranged in the room, with me in the middle,
all I can remember her saying, with such excitement and
delight, was "Daddy". She was smiling and
laughing. She was excited to see her friends all
around her. I hugged her and was overwhelmed with
unconditional love. The best type of love
known. The type of love I always hope to have with
her.
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Krista.....crisis
and fear |
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We
were at home one day in our first home. Krista and
myself, playing and having fun. In the middle of the
den, was Leigh Ann's high chair. As Krista stood,
the shelf of the high chair was just above eye level for
her. As usual with a young child, temptation to
explore had overcome her. I remember seeing her walk
up to the high chair, reaching up for the shelf of the
chair and pulling on it. Then it happened, the
unforeseen, the unknown. She leaned back and the
chair fell forward. As she fell to the ground, she
never let go of the shelf on the chair and pulled it over
on her, the shelf hitting her just above the eyes,
striking her directly on the forehead.
I jumped
and ran at the same time she began to cry out of both fear
and shock. When I got to her, I panicked, the shelf
having cut her head. Blood was on her forehead and
the area around it was starting to swell. As the
skin started to swell, it actually looked like a dent in
her skull. I was so afraid it had creased her skull,
I didn't know what to do. I had not way to go
anywhere, I had no one to call. Holding her, so afraid my
baby was hurt, I almost called 911. I quickly placed
a towel on her head to keep the swelling down and to stop
the bleeding. It started to look better and I knew
then it was just a bruise with swelling.
It scared
me, the feeling of being helpless to take care of
her. I didn't know what to do, and I could not stand
to see her hurt. I never want anything to happen to
her. At that short moment in time, she was the love
of my life, all that I was. I felt her fear and was
more hurt than she was.
She turned
out well, just a bruise. A large bruise on her
forehead. A large bruise to my pride, pride in being
able to protect the ones that I love.
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Krista...
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We
were at the old Providence Hospital on Springhill Avenue
in Mobile, February 1984. Suzy was in labor and I
was lost. Our first child was soon to be
here. I didn't know what to expect, I didn't know
what I was to do. I was helpless.
After
being admitted we were given a "birthing
room". A room that was private, more relaxed
and separate from everyone else. The days of being
in operating rooms had long gone. It was a long
event and wait for us. All I can remember is the
waiting, waiting, the long waiting. I do
remember that as the time passed, the contractions began
to become stronger, the time coming closer.
When it
finally came time for what the nurse determined to be
close enough, I was ushered out of the room and told to
put on hospital greens. The doctor was called
in. I remember the television hanging from the
wall towards the top of the room, and MASH was the show
that was playing. The doctor arrived and Suzy was
so close. She would have a contraction, we would
all give her our attention and support, hoping to
encourage her. Then we would all stop and watch
MASH, in between the contractions. This repeated
itself several times. After several repeated
attempts as delivery, the doctor made the decision to
move Suzy to the operating room to take Krista from
her. He was afraid that the long time in delivery
was creating a strain on both mother and child.
The nurses wheeled Suzy to the emergency room, and were
readying for the operation. Suzy had another
contraction, just as they were preparing everything,
when the miracle happened. Everyone took their
places, the doctor and nurses all around, when Krista
arrived in our lives.
Though I
was lost, in shock and so amazed, the most wonderful
event ever witnessed had just happened before me.
The nurses wrapped Krista and took her to the other side
of the room, and began to clean her. One of them
called me over and held her out to me, offering her to
me. I held her. I cradled her up against my
chest. The emotions were so strong, so
overwhelming, my daughter was here. Emotions I had
never felt, so powerful. I knew at that time I
would never let her go. The nurses asked to take
her back, I refused. I didn't want to let go of
her.
I knew
then, at that time, both the joy and fear of life.
Life so tiny, so helpless, so loved. Krista.
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Bedtime...
a time to share |
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My favorite time of each day. The time my children
go to bed. A time that is special for us. As
each child goes to bed, it is my time to be with them
and share thoughts and feelings of life and love.
I enjoy the time alone, the time given us.
We talk
small talk, we talk of life, we talk of things to learn
and people to love.
Time to talk
of conquests, time to talk of fears.
Time to talk
of silly things, time to play math games.
It is my
time, my time to let them know that I will always be
here for them and to let them know that I love
them.
It is
time that will never be taken from me.
"I
love you, Daddy will always love you, forever and
ever."
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The
Career Exhibit |
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21
years |
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Twenty one
years, from 1977 to 1998. 21 years with one
company. For many that is more than a lifetime, for
others it is but a flash in time. I spent those
years working for the Bruno family, founders of Bruno's,
Inc., a grocery chain that exploded in Alabama during the
seventies and eighties. It died in the
nineties. It was a slow and agonizing death, one
driven by loss of vision, loss of purpose and loss of
leadership.
Twenty one
years, the years of my early adulthood, the years of my
becoming a parent, the years of my venturing down so many
different paths.
It was a
great company in the early years. A company founded
by the Bruno brothers, Joe, Sam, and Angelo. Joe was
the early leader with Angelo taking the lead later as the
company grew. I was there when it started its phenomenal
growth in the early seventies. I started at one of
the first Food World stores ever opened. It was on
Green Springs Highway in 1974, with Mr LaRussa, as store
manager. He was a good guy, a parent, one of the
insiders who grew with the company. The sales volume was
good,
it was a great success in Homewood. They started
with low prices, keeping overhead low. To this day,
that store is still in business, some thirty years
later.
I grew
through the company, starting as a cashier, moving to the
opening at the store in Pelham as a grocery stocker.
I wasn't normal, in that I always had the drive to be the
fastest stocker around. I couldn't stand for anyone
to throw more stock than me. I raced myself and any
others up to the challenge every night. In 1979, I
took a transfer to Mobile in hopes of being able to take a
promotion. With the Union seniority in the
Birmingham market, it was almost impossible to move up
through the ranks. I wanted to take advantage of
opportunities in a new area. I wanted to
strike out on my own, to start a new life.
I moved to
Mobile as an assistant department manager at the opening
of the store on Government Street, with Jake LaPorte as
store manager. I liked Jake, a nice guy, young and
wanting success, real sharp with retail. Over the
years I would learn to know him more as a good person and
as one who was wise enough not to take any job to
serious. Jake and I worked together several times
over the years, once at the Consumer Foods on Dauphin
Island Parkway and once when I was his manager at the
Moffett Road store in Mobile. Life had more to
offer, and it could be seen in Jake. I saw
Jake about a year ago, aged and still in retail, still in
the one business that he could have been a hero in.
He was a "Merchandising Mother".
After a few
years at the store on Government Street, I was offered the
head grocery stocker position at the store opening in
Saraland, Alabama. It was a fun time for me. I
worked for Jim Moody, another mentor to me, another legend
in the Mobile retail market. Jim always set a
standard to be followed by others. He took his work
serious while in the building, but as soon as he stepped
out the door, he could cut up and have fun with the
best. He is still managing for Food World, though it
is a different company these days. I learned so much from
Jim Moody, more than I would ever admit to anyone it
seems. He knew how to make money, one thing many in
retail never successfully learn.
After
moving around to many of the local stores I moved into
management and had the opportunity to work with such great
managers such as Howard Rudolph, Mike Gaal, Donnie Adams,
Keith Owens, and so many other believers in what Bruno's
had to offer. All great people, all people
with the conviction to be the best men they could be in
both work and family.
Being a
store manager for Bruno's was easy physically and the
mental part of the job was easy. The hardest part
was reconciling with the upper management who believed
that the employees were not to be treated as equals and
who only cared about the bottom line. While they
pushed the stores to control the bottom line, they spent
all of it at there level. They lost focus, they
drove expenses up, and then resorted to covering expenses
by playing with prices. They played with prices, and
lost the customer base, they opened the doors for others
to step in and take what they had in their hands. The pressure
to continually keep payroll dollars as low as
possible was at many times our only goal. It was a
goal that helped foster the end of the company, a company
that eventually lost sight of the true goal of growing
sales and taking care of people. You can not have
one without the other.
Twenty one
years....I survived Sammy Manzella, who had no vision
Twenty one
years.... I outlasted Ronnie Bruno, who was about himself
Twenty one
years.... I watched the long slow fall, I watched men who
were high in self esteem, fall a mighty fall. I
watched the big and the false egos implode, I watched the
Alice Keels, the ones who walked on others to move
up. I was at several points in time, someone's rung on that ladder to their perceived
success. They all fell, they all fell to where they
belonged, they became leaders of no man. They failed
to lead.
Twenty one
years....I became a man, I became a father.
Twenty one
years....sold twice, they are no longer the company of
old.
Twenty one
years....a company came and went.
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A new
life....Thanks Sam |
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In
1998, after spending 21 years at Bruno's, the hammer
finally hit me in the head and I realized there were
better opportunities for me. Challenges that I knew
I could attack. A new culture to learn, a new life
to live. But one thing I did learn is that retail is
all the same, take care of the customer, and take care of
the people you work with. It never changed.
Sam Walton just figured out how to do it better than
anyone else I had ever seen. No matter how big his
company became, the more he focused on taking care of
people.
My first
experience was as a trainee in management. I thought
I knew everything about retail How wrong could I
have been. It took at least one year to learn enough
of the great Walton system to even hold my head above
water. Then I started to move. I had the
opportunity to work at Tillman's Corner as a
co-manager. The two years I was there, we won
Supercenter of the year. A great experience in a
fast paced life. I then spent a year with Ken Forman
at the store in Pascagoula, MS. The best experience
I ever had from one of the best item merchants I have ever
had the opportunity to learn from.
Then I was
given my first Wal-Mart as store manager. What a
life changing experience. How much I really had to
learn. The hardest thing I had to adapt to was the
fact that this company wasn't just hot air in regards to
taking care of people They were serious. I had
to learn that it isn't all about money. Work, along
with life is about the people you take care of, the people
you help. How can anyone ever expect people to do
things with you and for you, if they don't know that you
are willing to give all to help them and support them when
they need you. I want to be needed, needed in a
manner where people know they can come to me when they
need a friend. My family, my coworkers and my
customers.
Thanks
Sam...I wonder how many lives you changed, how many lives
you helped made better?
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