Tom was hard to work for, but “in the day,” we were grateful to have work, leaned in and learned, and glad to be taught. Tom had been a turret gunner in an Avenger, Pacific theater, WWII. He taught grit.
How do you learn grit? Not by reading a book or listening to a TED talk, not by showing up when it suits, not by asking favors or choice assignments, not by complaining, but by doing. He taught that.
Working five summers for Tom, starting at age 12, I learned how to change tires, oil, plugs, and filters, how to take an engine apart, how to replace belts to rocker-arm cover, how to “be useful” not hover, how to wipe water from a distributor cap on a rainy day, jump start an engine, shift without a clutch.
Tom wore Kakis most days, more muscle than all of us combined. On rare occasions, when things got hot, he would wear old shorts. His legs had nickel-sized holes in them, napalm from a failed bomb. He never talked about it. Not fond of war, he was about doing his part, nothing more.
My first job each morning – for those five years – was “the bunk line.” Tom managed a Maine summer camp for New York kids. “The bunk line” meant cleaning and fixing 26 toilets each morning, 90 days, five summers. If you are counting, that’s 11,700 toilets. Like grease, toilets teach.
Days could go anywhere and everywhere, building cabins, sanding floors, scraping, painting, and polyurethane, fiber-glassing old boats, plucking nuts from old jars, applying “Bondo” to old cars. Of course, I mowed lawns between yawns, dug postholes, and, sounds strange, built a .22 rifle range.
In those days, work was a great thing, harder the better, part of adulthood, our goal was to be the working poor, never a workless debtor. We craved responsibility and worth, skills and muscle, not frills, not girth. From Tom, we learned it all – how to weld, drill, saw, have stamina, and stay fit.
Looking back, I wonder how we had that singular attitude, why that was how we all thought, how America did – everyone trying to learn something new, striving for big things to do, more skills and self-reliance, no one interested in having government solve our problems, instinctively defiant.
The more years pass, as Tom himself has, the clearer the answer: We had examples – everywhere – of fiercely independent souls, people who got up early, worked hard, took control, did not let others dictate how they would live. That was how the World War II generation fought and how they taught.
People like Tom were a living example, no lectures, excuses, or soft landings, just the goodness of hard work and the power of can-do, something still alive inside me and you. They knew, since theirs was such a hard-won peace. They rose glad to be alive, and they knew the benefit … of simple grit.
Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!
