Growing up, many of us were employed by WWII veterans. They taught – more by example than words. What they taught was choosing the hard thing, loving hard work, and when you fail, learning from it, stepping back up – until you succeed. Working not to let others down is part of success.
Growth – all growth in every life – is about accepting responsibility, choosing the hard stuff, understanding sometimes you will fail, can learn from failing, get up, understand, prevail.
In my youth, I worked – at different times – for two WWII veterans, one quick to anger, one never angry, first a turret gunner in an Avenger, second hard time in the Pacific, both Navy. Neither one spoke about the war, except on the rarest of occasions, then from different perspectives.
What they shared was love of America, family, their town, their state, and our nation – plus love of hard work. The first employed me for five years, taught me plumbing, carpentry, and how to accept hard jobs, get them done, and get dirty working on a car, painting, under a house, or fixing toilets.
He was easy to anger but perhaps understandably – his life had been rough. He processed frustration by demanding perfection, including of himself. That was a lesson I learned in the reverse, or negative. Expect a lot, give a lot, learn a lot, but know God alone is perfect; we are not.
The other veteran was a quiet man, almost as focused on perfection as the first. What they both knew was that hard things must be undertaken, done right, and that persistence requires unswerving resolve to get things right, over and over, until you get the outcome you want.
They knew about high stakes, no excuses, resilience based on resolve to succeed, how to pick yourself up when you fall, until you can do that consistently. They knew what it meant to be “counted on” by others, part of a team, to assume and fulfill responsibility. They taught that.
The first one taught lessons that made me ask better of myself, but with forgiveness; we all make mistakes. The point is not to dwell on failures, but to get back up, try again, aim and achieve. The point was not to blame others for what you miss, but to take responsibility thoughtfully.
The second WWII veteran taught quietly; his lessons I remember as well. He did not raise his voice, no sarcasm or anger – even with himself. He applied to himself the same expectations he applied to us. He worked, as the first one did, right beside us. The second vet was patient, taught how to be.
One day, he showed up with a new red truck. He asked one worker to take it for lumber; we built houses. Moving fast, the worker backed it into a tree. George – this veteran’s name – came around, looked at the truck, said this fellow would not be driving it, and went for the lumber himself. Over, done.
Another day, I had just learned to shingle, singled all day. End of that blisteringly hot day, George showed up. I was proud to show my skills, wanted to be the hardest worker. I had snapped the chalk line square, hauled shingles up the scaffolding, hammered well, finished on time.
George asked me to study the roof, not a good sign. I looked up. All square, symmetry, shingles trimmed. Then I saw it. I had gone up once more to check the roofline, and there they were – my footprints across the tar shingles on that hot day.
He showed no anger, but noted that the homeowner was paying good money. We would take them up, put new ones down tomorrow. I understood. He did not dock my pay, raise his voice, or rail at me for stupidity. 50 years later, I remember that. Be thoughtful, do it right the first time, “George’s way.”
So, here we are, second quarter of the next century, with the burden on us to teach lessons we were taught, tough as that is. Are we doing it? Are we passing forward those life lessons – sacrifice and hard work, resilience, patience, and getting things right by having a personal code?
I hope so. I think in some quarters we are. Life is not asking others to do what we can do for ourselves; it’s not about excuses, blame, or quitting - no easy roads to hard places. It is modeling and teaching success – which comes, as it always has, from doing the hard thing, resilience until we succeed.
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What does this stir in you?