Childhood Memories

My Resourceful Father

My grandson, Brady, has started doing work for pay.  I saw him at Christmas and he told me that he and a friend had started a business raking leaves and shoveling snow for their neighbors.   They worked in tandem and picked up their jobs by offering their services to carefully selected prospective clients.   They were making money.

When I was in Michigan last month, I asked how things had progressed.  He itemized his jobs for me and outlined how much he made on each one.   The income started at $20.00 and rose to as high as $50.00.  Not bad for a couple of twelve-year olds.

He and his family spent the Easter Holiday with us in Florida.  I asked again how business was going and how he sets his price for a job.  He told me that he just allows the market to determine his pay.  Customers pay him what they believe his services are worth.  I hope to hire him for assistance with my yard spring clean up duties when I return to Michigan.

As Brady shared his job responsibilities, it reminded me of my early working career and some of the jobs I had.   Although I didn’t bore him with all of the tasks I have performed over the years, I did tell him of a time that I worked with my dad on a lawn project.

All of the houses on our street were designed the same.  The lots were 50 by 125 with a sidewalk that divided the front 50 in half and led up to a front porch with two steps.   A few of the fancier houses had a covered entrance that projected over the same type of front porch.  My friend, Bill Graham, lived in one of those.   There were only three or four more houses with the fancy porch on the entire block.

One year after my dad hit it big in a poker game, (that’s probably not true but does offer up an explanation how he got the cash for a home improvement project) my parents had the front walk and original porch torn off.   It was a perfectly good front porch, but they wanted something different.  They replaced the porch with a larger, longer porch that stretched across about two-thirds of the house and ended with two, top of the line, pre-cast steps, leading down to the driveway.  It was big for the neighborhood.  But that wasn’t enough.  They added a black, wrought iron, railing and topped it off with a huge green and white awning that covered the entire porch.  The green awning was a beautiful accent that complemented the white sided house.  I believe everyone on our block has suffered “porch envy” ever since.

Once the remodeled porch was complete, my dad tackled the torn up front yard.  The sidewalk was gone, the remaining yard was a mess, so something had to be done.  Dad decided to have new topsoil delivered and the newly manicured front yard would be topped off with beautiful Kentucky Blue grass sod.  (Cha Ch’ing!!!)  Before the sod could be installed, the manicuring had to take place.  The new topsoil guys delivered the topsoil.  The responsibility for spreading the topsoil (by shovel) and the leveling (by rake) fell upon my dad and his “right hand man” (me).  Dad spent a couple of evenings after work shoveling dirt.   The balance of the shoveling, and all of the raking, was handled on Saturday.  (my one free day without school or church)

While ALL of my friends were preparing for a Saturday full of baseball down at the park, I got to do yard work.  I was a reluctant eleven-year-old “right hand man”.  In addition to my involuntary recruitment, I found out that seven and four-year old girls do not have to do yard work.

Now that the sidewalk was gone the yard was huge!  It was 50 feet wide and about 20 feet deep!  There was also a side yard that was another 10 feet wide and 20 feet deep.  Can you say GIGANTIC!  ALL of it had to be raked.  If reincarnation is a real thing, my dad was probably a plantation owner in a prior life.

I started raking on the driveway side of the yard while my dad spread the remaining topside in the side yard. Shoveling looked like more fun than raking.  The goal of raking was to provide a nice level surface for the new sod.  The sod was going to be delivered Monday afternoon, so we only had two days to complete the raking.  My first thought was that we would probably have to rake day and night to get it done.  Not only did we have to rake the soil, but it had to be clump free.  If I found a clump of dirt, I had to break it down by hand.  If I found a rock, or even the tiny, tiniest, little pebble, I had to place it in a pail.  Dad wanted a clump, bump free, level surface for his new sod.

After dad finished the shoveling, he started to help with the raking.  This was about the same time that the guys were walking by the house to see if I could play ball.  I couldn’t.  As the guys passed, my dad yelled, “Hey, Rob.  Look what I found!”  He held up a nickel.

“Where did you find it?” I asked.

“Right here where I was raking.”

He started raking again and as soon as he started, he said, “Holy Cow!  I found a dime!”

I started raking harder and faster.  If he was finding money, there must be some on my side of the yard.   My dad’s new-found wealth stopped the ball players in their tracks.

One of the boys asked, “Mr. Tebo, can I rake too?”

“Sure, if you have a rake.”  (My dad liked to include everyone in his chores.  He had a big heart and liked to help the kids whenever he could.)

In about five minutes, Bill Graham, Mark Conti, Bobby and Bruce Matson, and three of the Prested boys were raking side by side.  Baseball gloves, balls and bats were lying on the driveway and topsoil was flying.  An armored car must have crashed into the topsoil yard because the guys were finding pennies, nickels, dimes and a couple of lucky quarters as the topsoil got smoother and smoother.   There were so many boys raking that there wasn’t room in the yard for my dad, so he had to stop.  He did walk around to make sure that everyone was doing a good job.  That was the day that I discovered what being a supervisor was all about.

It turns out seven boys can rake a yard faster than a dad and his “right hand man”.  We finished the raking before noon.   When the boys counted up their discovery, we must have had a total of three or four dollars.

As we were picking up our balls, bats, and gloves, and getting ready to head to the park, our neighbor, Mrs. Barkery brought out some cookies and lemonade to her husband who was working in his yard.  We dropped the baseball gear, picked up our rakes, and joined Mr. Barkery.  Turns out we liked cookies and lemonade almost as much as the almighty dollar.

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