Daddy’s ’53 Red Ford Pickup Truck Moral
Robert Menard
Certified Purchasing Professional,
Certified Professional Purchasing Consultant, Certified Green Purchasing Professional, Certified Professional Purchasing Manager
Editor’s Note: This is a non-business post, one of but a handful in the seven years of this blog. All of us have families and personal stories; this is one of mine. For my sales brethren, yes, it is true, we supply pros have a personal side.
Dad was a WW II veteran, a proud Marine who enlisted in 1943 at 17 years old. What were you doing at 17? I was an irresponsible, fun loving kid, as were most of my baby boomer companions. Little did I appreciate how much Dad and his compatriots did for the baby boomers and the country at large.
Education has been a driving passion for me, in part because my father, who did not finish high school, was a learning advocate and as studied as any graduate student of his era. I inherited the passion for education from Dad and went on to be the first in my family lineage ever to have graduated from college. Indeed, my practice in education & training for the purchasing profession is but one manifestation. How I wish I could tell him now how much I appreciate him. Maybe he can feel my admiration.
My younger brother Dick and I are 15 months apart. One day, when we were 5 and 6, we stole into Daddy’s ’53 red Ford pickup truck in hopes of emulating his behavior when he gave us rides. How we loved riding with Daddy in his truck – no seat belts on the bench seat, roll down windows, and running boards.
In the 1950s, pickup trucks had an ignition switch, a starter switch, a manual choke, clutch, and an accelerator, a total of five controls. Accordingly, it took one hand each for the ignition, starter, and one foot each for the clutch and accelerator, and if you did it all correctly and quickly, you could adjust the choke so that the truck started. The transmission was three speeds with a column shift. When parked on the dirt path, the track was always left in first gear to prevent rolling backward.
My brother and I liked to play in the truck bed. One day, we climbed into the cab to try our luck at driving. Our legs were too short to reach the pedals but we made a discovery. When we pressed the starter and ignition together, the truck bucked forward. It was a great thrill and we laughed, doing it again and again until Daddy came out to give us what for!
I do not know what prompted this memory but it moved me to write about it. It has elements of fun, mystery, adventure, learning, innocence, and consequences. From our earliest memories and experiences, there are lessons that stay with and influence us for a lifetime. Thanks, Dad.