Chapter 2: What was your first boss like?

My first job was delivering the Seattle Times newspaper. There was a person in charge of the newspaper boys, but I wouldn’t call him my boss. He just had to make sure the papers were delivered. Delivering newspapers was a common first job for late elementary and junior high school students. It taught “young men” how to be responsible. We had to deliver the newspapers seven days a week on rainy, snowy, hot and cold days. We also had to collect the monthly subscription fees. I lived on top of Queen Anne Hill and my route was at the bottom of the hill. It was really fun on snowy days.

My first “real” boss was Ken Giles. He was a co-owner of an IGA (Independent Grocers Association) supermarket. My friend, Danny Braxmeyer, worked there told me to apply for a job. His father was the store manager, but I had an interview with Ken. After the interview, he said, “Sorry, but we don’t need anybody right now.” A few days later, Danny asked if I got the job. I told him, “No.” He told me to go back and ask again. A week or so later, I went back. Again, Ken said that he was sorry and that he wasn’t hiring. Several days after that, Danny asked me again if I got the job. After telling him “no” he said go back again. I told him that I was already turned down twice and wasn’t going to bother Ken again. He kept pushing me, and finally I said ok. After another week or so, I went back and got the job. Later Ken told me that he really didn’t need any more workers at that time, but since I was so persistent, he thought that I would be a hard worker.

He taught me all aspects of working in a grocery store, ordering, stocking shelves, being a cashier, home deliveries, making bank deposits etc. When I quit to enter the Air Force, he said that if I got out in four years, he would send me to a special school and then make me a manager of one of his stores. Tuesdays were delivery days. A large tractor/trailer would come early before the store opened. We would download the truck by hand and move everything to the second-floor storage area. When I came home from Viet Nam on vacation, I would go to the store and help download the truck. Of course, I would not take any pay. After downloading, we would have a cup of coffee and talk about Viet Nam and the old days. I was getting pay raises often. Finally, he told me not to cash my paycheck at his store because he didn’t want the other part-time workers to know how much I was getting paid. He was paying me more than others who had worked there longer, but they were somewhat lazy.

Here is a photo of Ken when he was young and older. I knew him somewhere in the middle.