They say a picture is worth a thousand words. In this series I’ve chosen one picture per post which brings out strong memories for me and has a story attached to it. This picture is of the Santa Monica Pier in Los Angeles, California, the place I first watched the sun set into the Pacific.
I was as far from home as I’d ever been.
When I went to college, my goal was to work for the National Park Service. My major was Wildlife and Fishery Science with a minor in American History. I spent five years working on two degrees to prepare myself for my career, but in the days of the infancy of the internet I really didn’t know what that career would entail. While there, I worked in the banquet department at a beautiful resort hotel and golf course and made pretty decent money for a college kid. I was, therefore, pretty disappointed when I started looking for a real job only to find that the only Park Service jobs available to me were 3 month temporary positions in parks I’d never heard of making $8 an hour. I couldn’t believe it – after five years of good grades and two degrees from an excellent institution I was only going to make $8 an hour? That was significantly less than I was making in my current job. And in three months I’d have to start all over again?
I decided to think on it for a while and headed to my summer home of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. In my first “real world” lesson, I had to sign to a one-year lease to get a decent place to live, and went back to work at the restaurant I had worked at the previous two summers. Over the next year I worked a lot, drank too much and made some really good friends, some of whom are still my friends today, but didn’t make a lot of progress towards any career goals. I’d like to say it was fun, but looking back it just seemed like it was at the time. There were some great days, but life after college was supposed to be different.
After a year of spinning my wheels I found myself no further ahead than I had been when I arrived. I cut my losses, packed up my bags and headed north. I went back to Pennsylvania for a while, and then headed to Ocean City, Maryland for a few days to see what the work climate was like there. Nothing seemed to be working out, so I finally gave up and heading home to D.C. I called one of my former scoutmasters who was a general contractor and asked if he had any work he could use a hand with. He gave me an address and told me to be there at 7:30 a.m. the following morning. I spent the next year working my way up from a laborer to a junior carpenter. I liked the work, learned a lot and made some good friends while I was home. It definitely wasn’t the path I had envisioned though.
One night I was at my mother’s house for dinner, and she asked me what I would do if I could do anything. I thought for a minute and said I’d love to be guiding tours out west, camping and hiking and taking people to see the National Parks. She nodded and the conversation turned elsewhere.
A few weeks later my mom came home with a brochure from a company called Trek America. Trek America ran multi-week camping tours all over North America – even to Alaska and Hawaii. Every time I turned the page I got more and more excited about this company – it seemed like such a dream. It turned out that someone my mom worked with had a son who worked for this company and he would, on his mother’s opinion of my mother, be willing to offer his recommendation for me to his boss. I honestly hadn’t been that excited maybe in my whole life, but I didn’t think I would actually get the job.
I filled out the application in February, and in March I drove to New Jersey for an interview at the East Coast office. The manager there wasn’t very impressed with my carpentry skills, but my degrees looked good and I had a strong background in customer service from the hotels and restaurants I had worked in over the years. I had never really had an interview like that before – not for something I really wanted. I was nervous, and I didn’t think I did exceptionally well. I thanked him and came home to D.C.
I got a call the following week from the Training Manager in Los Angeles – a Cajun guy named Ken from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He offered me a spot on the first training trip of the year, starting in April in L.A. I was so excited I nearly cried. I thanked him and rushed off to tell everyone I knew.
How does one prepare for a job like that? I had no idea. I read some of the books Ken had recommended, bought some new hiking boots and a new camera (my first ever online purchase), quit my construction job and started packing. I had heard about the job in February, interviewed in March and in April I was on a flight to California. I told my friends the night before I left that when I got to L.A. I was going to make a beeline for the pier in Santa Monica. I was going to watch the sun set into the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life.
When I arrived in California, after dropping my stuff at the hotel, I got on a bus to Santa Monica. I got off the bus and walked a few blocks to the coast and found the pier. I was really there! I had made it. I truly couldn’t believe it, and kept waiting to wake up and learn it was all a dream. As I made my way to the end of the pier, I enjoyed the buskers and the tourist shops. I watched fisherman toss out their line and kids with balloons run up and down on the weathered wood cross beams. The beach stretched off as far as I could see in both directions. The water was a different color than the Atlantic, and the waves were bigger than the ones I was used to. There were surfers on the water, kids splashing in the waves near the shore and plenty of people sunbathing, playing volleyball, walking, biking or just sitting and watching the ocean. I absolutely loved the rides and games – how beachy! The lights and the sounds made my heart hum. My senses were so alive that day! I made it to the end of the pier, far out over the water, and watched the sun set into the ocean for the first time. It was magic. The next day I would start a career which would span my adult life, and I couldn’t have been more excited to be there.
I was as far from home as I’d ever been, and the next day was the first day of the rest of my life.