This week I spent some time reorganizing my desk at home. I was about to call it a night when I noticed some data CD’s in back of my monitor.  I decided to take a look at them and found they contained several projects I was working on during my job search. 

One of those CD’s contained a first draft for a book I was planning to write.  The book dealt with people who had a profound impact on my life.  As I reviewed the disc, I found a file called “Bob’s story.”  I felt his story had to be told, as it portrayed how hopeless job search can become. 

I would like to offer this to our readers as it conveys a very important message to those who lose their sense of self worth: although job search is important; it is not the most important thing in life.  Health, hope and life itself are far more important…

I shared an excerpt of this story with a former co-worker last year.  We had an ongoing exchange about our upbringings. Here is the e-mail I sent, which contained the excerpt:

…..Thanks for your inspirational retelling of your upbringing. Although my upbringing was quite different, the one similar element was our resolve to make our lives better. Your upbringing, however reminds me of a friend I once had, and his upbringing was very similar to yours.
 
  I met Bob during the late 1960’s.  Although my parents tended to be ethnocentric, they realized my choices for friends were good ones.  Bob was a Native American and most people thought he was from India or Africa, because of the color of his skin.  This, however, made no difference to me.
 
 Bob had three unique characteristics, two of which I adapted. First, at a time when most teenagers were listening to rock music, Bob was an avid fan of classical music and had a very extensive collection.  He is the main reason why I still listen to classical music today.  Second, he was an accomplished artist. Although he had almost no formal training, his use of oil paints was nothing short of miraculous.  He could paint still life, landscapes and portraits that were amazing.  He completely understood how to use oil paint to achieve the perception of reality.  Finally, he loved to smoke cherry flavored tobacco his corn cob pipe (he never touched cigarettes). Many of my other friends thought this was unusual.  I never was a fan of tobacco, and although it was awkward being one of the few non smokers in my peer group, I stuck to my guns and to this day I am glad that I never wavered on that issue.
 
Bob’s mother raised him and his three younger brothers on her own. She held several jobs at the same time to support her family.  His mother never complained and always treated her children as the top priority.  Bob’s father was violent and irrational.  He abandoned his family when my friend was about 10 years old.  Bob played the role of surrogate father and took care of his younger brothers while his mother was working.
 
It did not seem as though anyone in Bob’s family had much luck at marriage.  His grandparents divorced, his aunt also had a failed marriage, and one of his brothers had also married and divorced several years later.
 
Despite his persistent efforts, Bob was unable to find long term employment in his chosen field and no one seemed to be interested in his artwork.  In the mid 1970’s he moved to Arizona with his family.  His mother became interested in another man, who offered to move the whole family to Arizona. Although Bob was old enough to live on his own, he felt that he might be able to find an opportunity in his chosen field out west. 

For several years he tried his best; however he was unable to land a position in commercial art.  He always mailed me pictures of his latest works. I became concerned because my friend’s artwork was taking a strange turn.  Instead of landscapes and portraits, he started painting graveyards, scenes from horror movies, and polluted rivers. Around 1977 he was able to get a job as a security guard, which required that he carry a weapon. About a few months afterwards he used that weapon to take his own life.  I heard that he had a nervous breakdown sometime after he moved to Arizona and that his mother’s new husband ridiculed him for his inability to succeed in his chosen profession.
 
  Yet I hate to leave this with a sad ending.  I keep Bob’s memory alive by remaining creative.  To this day I listen to both classical and contemporary music.  I know Bob would be proud of my accomplishments.  The way I see it, his life is also a testament to the importance of having a strong parental figure, and a strong family.  My wife remains my strongest supporter, and she is sure I will find employment soon. My father calls me every Sunday, and offers support as well. In summary, I am 100% sure that no matter what lies ahead my story will have a much happier ending than the one that I have just told.
 
We should both be grateful that we have a very strong support system.  I have decided to keep a detailed record of my job search.  I was thinking of a title for this record.   What do you think of “Good Hunting?” 

Speak to you soon. Good Luck on your job search. 

-By Howard K. Young, Contributing Writer & Member of The 405 Club.

View all of Howard’s posts here.