A Flawed Legacy - 19

San Diego on any day of the year is a good day.  We were fortunate to have found a nice duplex apartment that was close to the elementary school we needed for our children and across the street from a shopping center. It was a great new start and it should have worked well for us.  Unfortunately, it did not.

My problem was that I had not yet learned how to deal with rejection and working for a company that promised to "Write your Congressman" on behalf of the companies I was able to convince that they needed to participate, meant that I was being rejected on 60 to 70 per cent of my "unannounced" calls. More often that not, the owner was not available.  I should have anticipated this, but I did not.

Instead, I turned to what I had begun to believe was my old "dependable" as far as jobs were concerned.  I dropped by an employment agency looking for a "better" job and would up with another promise of the future and more drudgery.  I had some breaks.  The young Indian emigrant with more clerical skills than I had ever seen was easy to place in an "employer paid fee" job.  That impressed her father who came to the office with the resumes of the other children I had yet to meet and told me not to worry about fees; he would pay the fees for any of the others I placed.  That became my goal, but I did not share my thoughts with the agency manager and soon she became critical of my efforts.

Then came the bomb shell.  The mail box of the people in the adjoining unit had been pilfered and it did not take long for the authorities to visit Janice.  From what I would soon hear from the investigators who talked with me, she was blaming me for my financial failures.  To be honest, I almost lost it.  I came close to beating on her after she hid in our bedroom behind a locked door.  I kicked it in and was ready to beat on her, when I realized my promise to her and to myself.  One more incident like we had experienced earlier and I was through with the marriage.  The next morning I was talking with a lawyer about the possibilities of a divorce.  I would learn that we could not afford one.

So, I let the inevitable happen.  She was arrested, went to court - alone, and eventually, she was found guilty.  I never visited her in jail and was not interested in visiting her in the prison she was sent to for an evaluation.  Instead, I went to the appropriate offices in the State to see what assistance I could get to stabilize our family situation.  It would take time, I was told.

I called an old friend we had known in a Los Angeles church we had attended, shared my sad story and asked him if he could arrange to find me help for my problems.  By this time, I had to admit there had to be something wrong with me to have worked so very hard with no significant results and now, to find our family in disarray and my wife facing ten years in prison.  He came to San Diego, picked me up and we met with two others who were supposed to understand family crises.  We talked for over three hours and I realized, I was trying to convince them of my realities and they were fixated on what they had read about Christian family dynamics.  We were getting nowhere, but something my friend had said began to resonate with me.  My problem were more spiritual than any of us cared to admit.

With that I called a man I had known briefly, but who had made a lot of sense to me, so I called his office in Tulsa, OK.  Unable to reach him directly, his secretary suggested I come to Tulsa so that it would be easier to have him understand my predicament.  I thought that was a good idea.  I could not think of anyone in California who would be interested in listening to me.

I went back to the people I had talked with at the State offices and asked about the possibilities of placing the children in temporary (90 days) "Foster care" homes.  I assumed that before the 90 days had elapsed, Janice would be out of her temporary hold in prison, I would have learned more about my own sense of reality and we could establish a plan to our children.  To this day, I thought it was a good idea, it had been endorsed by the child welfare people.  Things would work out for the best of everyone. 

A Flawed Legacy - 17

Yes, I was wrong.  Dreams, expectations can fade, suddenly, without notice.

I no longer remember how I first heard of the money missing from a rent deposit made by one of the tenants we were supposed to accommodate.  All I can remember is that something like $400 was missing and Janice claimed to have no knowledge of it.  As it turned out, the tenants insisted they had paid her we did not have the cash on hand to make up for it.  Finally, I would learn that she did know more than she was admitting and I had but one thought.  Vividly, I recalled the Judge's warning during her sentencing for the first offense and all I could think of was her serving ten years in prison.

Fortunately, I had the opportunity to go through the landlord's books regarding deposits with an Asst. District Attorney investigating the case and his first impression was that his boss would not go ahead with prosecution.  I was wrong again.  I got a loan and tried to repay the landlord and they refused.  So - for some reason, still unknown to me, I acknowledged my responsibility and the DA filed charges.  I was headed for court for a crime I did not commit.  I thought it was better than having my wife in prison.   And I had seen the books, there were other mistakes and I sensed that possibly, they were wrong and my wife was not guilty - even though she had admitted to me that she was.

Going into court with the thought I might end up in prison was a scary experience.  My lawyer accepted my desire to leave it in the hands of the judge and not have a jury hear the claims and counter-claims.  I heard the testimony of the landlord's employee and for the first time, I took heart.  I was next on the witness stand and told the judge my understanding as to what had happened, including my thoughts on the way the landlord kept books, and stepped down.  No sooner had I sat down and the judge made his decision - I was not guilty, of poor judgement perhaps, but not guilty of a crime.

Shortly thereafter, for no other apparent reason than my employer assuming I had been guilty, I was fired.   But not through with that employer.  They claimed that I had taken money from the amounts that I had been responsible for and it did not take long before I was arrested.  Fortunately, the same Assistant DA was assigned this case and it didn't take him long to convince the DA, there was no case.  I was freed of all charges, but un-employed, again.

The friend who had offered me that job was now working for another company and they approached me to see if I was interested in getting even.  That was an interesting thought, but as I considered that we could compete with those who had filed fraudulent charges against me, I decided to join them.

We opened an office away from the previous one I had started, so there would be nothing for anyone to claim I was competing with them, and the fact was, we opened our office to compete with a major nationally known temporary help firm and within weeks, they had closed their office and left the area. Now we had employees from that firm and from the previous employer as well and were well on our way to even greater success.  We would open two others offices in short order, but I had nothing to do with them.  In the meantime, however, I had found a large company in need of females to work on an assembly line and used my contacts in the "gay" community to recruit new employees.  Within a month, we had more females working out of that office than we ever had numbers of men.

With that, the management bought another agency located on "skid row" in downtown Los Angeles and I became their manager.  We did very well from the outset as I fashioned an environment where most of the potential workers were comfortable as they waited on the possibilities they might obtain work and more importantly, money for a "cot, some hots and a drink or two" - which was life in the streets.

By now, our company seemed to me prospering, but one day I had a visit from the IRS.  They wanted to know of my relationship with the company, an employee or a corporate officer?  I was still an employee as I really was not interested in a title, I thought I had earned a secure position in the company and was more content, dealing with the employees.  At least, they seemed to be more honest with me than some of the actions in our home office.  The visit with the IRA was not just the first one.  I would discover that rather than depositing the monies we had collected for income taxes, they had ignored their responsibilities and within weeks, our doors were padlocked.  Gone was the possibility I would ever see the wages I had earned as bonuses, but were not paid because of "temporary" problems.  Well, we were in the temporary help business, so promises were temporary as well.

A Flawed Legacy - 12

With no specific goal in mind, I headed for Nashville and the Grand Ole Opry.  Enjoyed it, but not the motel I chose.  Onward, heading for St. Louis.  Had an idea I might see old friends from the days at Scott AFB, but had to wait for a week.  Meanwhile, needing to make some money, I stopped by the Kirby (vacuum cleaners) office and was hired immediately.  No training, just "get out there and hustle."

It was easy.  People were not buying the vacuum cleaner, they were buying the thought they could earn money by referring others to view a demonstration.  Never did see the results of this, but then I sold a vacuum to a couple with no floors in their house.  That wasn't difficult.  They had linoleum covering the ground of which the house stood and every time it cracked - and there were several, the dust went all over the sofa and stuffed chairs, but worse, the beds.  They had a teen aged daughter and her job would be to vacuum - everything, every day.  Oh yes, they paid cash, no discounts, full price.  Imagine that.

The boss heard about this and made me the "trainer" for his territory covering most of Missouri.  The pay wasn't bad, gas certificates, free motels and an over ride on the trainee sales.  Problem was, they would hire anybody and trying to train people who had no idea of how to manipulate people into buying was next to impossible.  At the end of the month, I headed West.

Surprised my Sister in California and it was good to be with her - at long last.  We had never, ever, lived together and getting to know her husband and children was really a good move for me.  Of course, there was the "bad" news I had to share with my soon-to-be former wife and Mother that was not easy and I am not proud of the explanations I had to offer.  But the die was cast.  I had made a bad mistake and it didn't seem to bother me that there was no turning back.  Of courses, over the years, I would pay a terrible price for disappointing my Mother.

I had to find a job and there wasn't much to offer in the area where my Sister lived so I moved on to Los Angeles proper, where I met a guy with a great offer.  He had a warehouse loaded with "hand knit" ladies sweaters and offered me a deal to sell them to department stores, out of State.  I was rather naive thinking that was a good deal and I had no problem making lots of sales, mainly because of the price and the obvious quality of the sweaters.  I paid my own way - on credit cards, and within thirty days, I had sold all that we had to offer.  I returned to Los Angeles to get paid for my efforts, but there were problems.  To make a much longer and sadder story shorter, the sweaters were not ours to sell. My new boss had a long record of selling knitting machines to gullible women who would also buy the yarn, but only a few would ever get paid.  The LA Police department would fill in the details,  It was a classic "Ponzi" scheme and they were still trying to locate my employer.  Welcome to California, Sherwood. Turns out the "office" he used was his girl friend's home and the last I would ever hear of them, they could not be found.

There was a brighter aspect to that experience.  I had met them at a Charles Simmons' sales seminar and he appeared to be very good at it.  I actually learned a lot about selling and during some of the meetings - aka sales rallies, I would meet people looking for sales people.  My favorite one was selling fine china to young employed girls and I had a lot of fun demonstrating the inherent value of buying expensive items that would last a lifetime.  It really did not matter if they did not buy on the first call, the names of other potential buyers were enough to earn really good money for me.  I only worked in the evenings and on weekends, so I had lots of "free" time.  Too much.  I really got lazy and worse, would head for a bar after every successful sale, knowing I could sleep it off the next day.  I began to develop really bad habits.

On one of my better days, I stopped into an employment agency looking for sales people I could add to the "team" I could create on my way to becoming a millionaire.  At least, that was my dream