Fifteen Cent Hamburgers

I was born with a bug – the Entrepreneur bug. My whole life I dreamed of owning my own business, and over the years I have had the opportunity to have several. My earliest recollection of being a businessman was when Eddie Cutshall and I had a Kool-Aid stand in my front yard. We purchased our supplies from my mother; she charged 5 cents for the package of Kool-Aid and 2 cents for the sugar. We served in little 4 ounce paper cups. At 2 cents, we grossed 16 cents per 2 quart package. We had almost a 47% food cost. Looking back, we should have charged 3 cents.

Most kids dreamed of being a fireman or a policeman, I dreamed of business. I gave it a lot of thought, as I remember. Guess that is why I wanted to major in business in college. I dreamed about making money and I figured out that I could make money on peoples desire to have fun. I dreamed about opening a movie theater, a sports complex, etc. Good ideas, but I was only 9.

Pro Cameras. My dad’s entrepreneurial spirit had him involved in different businesses during his home time from flying. He sold Jeeps, milk and cameras. The one I remember most was Pro Cameras. The Pro Camera cost a dollar and was ahead of its time. These were 12 exposure disposable cameras. When the pictures were taken, you mailed in the camera with another buck and got your pictures and a new camera by return mail. My dad was a good artist and was able to design and build a stand that looked like a Pro Camera, and sold Pro Cameras at the Santa Clara County Fair. Dad ended up with cases of cameras.

My new entrepreneurial endeavor was to sell Pro-Cameras. I would set up the camera stand in my front yard and hock cameras to passing traffic. I sold them for 50 cents. Dad just gave them to me to get rid of. I also went door-to-door and took them to school to sell to my school mates. I sold quite a few of them, but not nearly all he had. These cameras actually took pretty good pictures, but they were black and white and color pictures were really surging in popularity. When we moved to Dallas, I remember my dad loading cases of Pro-Cameras into a pick-up truck. Hind site would have had me save a bunch of them .. they might have had some value as collectables.

One of my earlier efforts was being a paperboy. I started out in Dallas where I was a substitute carrier for my friend, Steve Solomon. We carried the afternoon Dallas Times Herald. I would have had my own route, but we moved back to California. My next opportunity for a paper route was after we moved back to San Jose. We were living in Willow Glen and I got a San Jose Mercury route. I had a small route of 34 papers. The paper had a contest to increase circulation so I went out and worked hard, knocking on doors in the evenings, to get new subscribers. I kept adding customers and soon I had my route up to 55 customers. Then one day I got a notice that my route was being split. There was a maximum number of papers a carrier could have, which was 50. So I was back down to fewer papers than I started with!

All the carriers on my corner were 7th and 8th graders, with one 10th grader, whom I will call John, a real nerd. To gain the favor of the cool 7th and 8th graders, John always told us that when he turned 16 his Mom was going to let him drive her car to pick up his papers. On the morning of his 16th birthday I arrived at the corner (a shopping center corner) to get my papers. John was sitting in a new Chevrolet. He said it was his mother’s car and invited us to get in to warm up (it was chilly outside). Several of us got in and were getting warm and listening to the radio, engine running. Then all of a sudden the doors flew open and someone was pulling people out of the car and cussing. The guy pulling kids out was on the driver’s side, so we piled out the passenger side, grabbed our bikes and took off. Apparently it wasn’t John’s mother’s car. Deciding things had quieted down, another carrier and I went back and picked up our papers and went to the all-night Laundromat to fold them. As we sat on a table folding papers, in came a policeman. He told us to get into the squad car and drove us to Juvenile Hall, or Juvie. We were arrested and charged with tampering with an auto. I was processed in and assigned a bunk. I got there in time for first formation. Role was called and we went to breakfast. To say I was scared was an understatement, but I toughed it out and didn’t cry, although I wanted to!

Shortly after breakfast, I was called to see the Juvenile officer. My mother was there. The investigator was releasing me to my mother. He questioned me about the incident and I squealed like a stuck pig! Turned John right in. I didn’t know his full name, but he was a sophomore at Willow Glen High School. My mother said she got a phone call at about 6:30 telling her that her little boy had been arrested. She left Henry with Evelyn and came to get me. I didn’t lose my route because charges were not filed and my mother talked to the route manager.

Back at Monroe Street I got another paper route. This time with the San Jose Evening News and I delivered papers after school. I needed a new bike for my route. I wanted a red Schwinn American. I had saved my money and had the $45 to buy my new bike. The Schwinn American was the latest deal - three speed, middle weight bike. For another five bucks I could get a heavy duty paper carrier rack. It was great. I could put all my papers in the bag and then put the bag on the rack. The first thing my Mom had me do was to go down to the Police Station and register my bike and I got a license tag for my bike. I had that bike a couple of years, then one day Mom sent me to Valley Fair Market to get a few things. I rode my bike to the store and parked it in the rack, but didn’t lock it….we never locked our bikes. While I was in the store, someone took my bike. Never saw it again. Years later, after I returned home from my mission, I got a call from the police telling me they had found the frame to my bike at a pawn shop. I told them to keep it.

I kept that paper route until I started 9th grade. Couldn’t be delivering papers while in high school. Wasn’t cool. Now I had no income, but HEY, I WAS COOL!

Over the next couple of years, I did some odd jobs for Uncle Henry and Uncle Lee and was able to earn some spending money. Between my junior and senior years in high school, I got the job taking care of the school farm. Minimum wage in 1962 was $1.25 per hour but I was being paid $1.92 per hour. BIG BUCKS. During my senior year I was able to get a job with the San Jose Parks and Recreation Department. My cousin Linda was dating one of the recreation supervisors and he hired me. I was making well above minimum wage, but was working only part time, 3 hours after school and 5 hours on Saturday. It was during that time a new phenomenon occurred in our culture; 15 cent hamburgers arrived in San Jose.

The summer after I graduated high school, I was given a new playground in San Jose. I worked 40 hours a week at the largest playground in the system. I had two Recreational Aides who worked at the school as well. It was a good job and we did a lot with the kids, including trips to Candlestick Park to watch Willie Mays, Willie McCovey and the San Francisco Giants. But this was a full time job only in the summer and soon I was back to 20 hours per week. I hated to give up my rec job because I had seniority and was at a prestigious playground, and I was dating one of the Aides. So I went to the McDonald’s near the playground and got a job right off. I worked from 10 until 2. Then I went to my playground job at 2:30. Worked out great. I must have done a pretty good job at McDonald’s because when I got home off my Mission, they hired me right back. When I got into school I applied to McDonald’s near the school. I got that job because of the recommendation I got from my old boss. He gave me a good recommendation and soon I ended up as the night manager and got to wear the red Manager hat. I was then offered a full time manager position.

I was struggling with the decision to take the manager job. To take it I would have to quit school. The owner wanted to retire and she was leaving the store in the charge of her daughter. She wanted to send me to Chicago and McDonald’s training school, HAMBURGER UNIVERSITY. I’d have a degree! She was planning to open several stores and wanted me as her General Manager. Then I could easily move up the corporate ladder. But I was getting married and sure I wanted to be a hamburger slinger the rest of my life.

So I left McDonald’s and the now 17 cent hamburger and went to work selling ladies shoes at Leed’s. It was at this time I got a call form my dad telling me that if I wanted to come to work for the Airlines. He told me to call Vic at Aero Commuter in Burbank. I called and I was hired over the phone. and I moved to North Hollywood and went to work for the airlines. It was here that I was employed when I got married, and worked until I was drafted into the Army.

I had some pretty fun jobs, even mowed a few lawns. I could tell stories about each job, and maybe I will get to that point someday.