In one of my recent blogs I wrote about things I started doing but didn’t take them to the next level and went on to try another craft or hobby. Now, I’ve been thinking about some things I do that are done well.
I can make real fir Christmas wreaths and boughs like a professional. I can knit baby caps on a rake loom, and I’ve even sold a few. I can write a book about my husband’s white-water rafting experiences. I have a full notebook containing articles I’ve published. I can play the piano well enough to accompany congregational singing. I could even hold my own in a Jeopardy quiz on music and musicians. At 50 years of age, I earned an Associate Degree in Arts and Sciences from a community college. My emphasis was on Technical Writing and computer applications. I can layout and print out newsletters. I can make up lesson plans, and teach how to do genealogy, and how to write your personal history.
When I was 18 years old, and recently graduated from high school, I was hired as a clerk-typist for a custom house brokerage. I worked for a boss who demanded perfection. Though it was after World War II, it was sort of “known” about the office that he and his wife were Jewish and had escaped from Nazi Germany, which had something to do with their not having any family. He was a proud Prussian and used to demanding what he wanted. There were some nights, after dinner, when I helped my mom by wiping dishes, that I would complain to her about how mean Mr. Adolph Carr was.
I became able to meet his demands. We had a complicated 4-digit file numbering system. Over time I had the important account numbers memorized and could put my hand on a file as soon as he called for it–usually during a phone call. It was in the days when we made Consumption Entries on purple ditto masters that could not be erased. The masters were run through a cylinder with an alcoholic solution to print out copies. If I had a strikeover it would eternally embarrass me. When I had “down” time at work, Mr Carr would hand me a big book full of addresses for freight forwarders. I think he must have known every freight forwarder in West Germany. It was my job to type up business solicitation letters to each of them. The letters had to be perfect–no erasures or “white-out” or correction tape marks added. One particularly slow day, I didn’t have any other work to do but the solicitation letters. That day I typed 40 letters and envelopes–my best record.
Mr. Carr also dictated letters which I wrote down in shorthand. One day I missed a spelling error. He held the letter up in the air, and in a booming voice called out, “What is this? I can’t read it. Is it in Spanish or something? All eyes from the office staff were on me as I hurried back to his desk to see what he was so excited about, and with a red face, assured him I would retype the letter.
I remained at this office for two years, until I got married and moved to California. What did I learn from all that harassment? I learned basic double-entry bookkeeping from Mr. Carr. I learned to look words up in a dictionary, and became a good speller. When computers came along I could type over 100 words per minute. When my husband and I are in strange cities I am able to memorize street names, routes and directions quickly. I have ways to remember people’s names.
I still use my shorthand skills when I go to meetings and classes. I became more organized and efficient as I went on to learn more computer applications. There’s one more thing I can do to perfection. I can type professional resume’s without a blemish. As a writer using a word processor, I will reprint a page, several times if necessary, to correct even one tiny mistake. Now I am a perfectionist too! As I think back about Mr. Carr, I’m grateful that he pushed me to do my best. And my mind echoes back, “whatever’s worth doing, is worth doing well!”
