Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Ron Gold

July 29, 2006

ROLE MODEL

By Ron Gold

I was Allie’s first trainee. I was 12. He was about 16. His job was to teach me to set duckpins in a small bowling alley.

He was a high school dropout. I was a junior high school student.

Allie was a loner. I was the older son in a middle-class family.

He was very quiet, usually sweaty and disheveled with uncombed blond hair, wrinkled work pants, cheap sneakers and a perpetual smile.  He never wore a dress shirt, tie or sports jacket then.

Allie was calculatingly honest, devoid of pretensions and, with Allie, what you saw was what you got.

When you’re only twelve and have no older brother, you look up to a slightly older male .  Allie became my role model, trainer and mentor.

Allie possessed a bulldog work ethic.  He’d work every afternoon from 2 PM to 5:30 PM  for 25-cents per bowler per game—plus quarter tips bowlers would “air mail”

and Allie would snap-catch like a first baseman. He’d always smile and say, “thank

you”.

He’d leave the alleys at 5:30, eat dinner and return by 7 to set pins for the evening leagues: his opportunity to make “real” money.

His daily routine began as he gingerly walked down the alley gutters to the pit, step on the small indented foot lever that raised the small metal pins that aligned the 10 small duckpins.  After setting them, he’d climb onto the small lid that protected him from super-fast bowling balls and flying duckpins.  Before he reset the pins, he’d push the bowling balls down the curved wooden chute.  He explained that customers like to hold the ball as you set the pins.

Allie taught me how to pick up fallen pins in both hands and reset them quickly.

(“The faster you set the pins, the more games the customers can bowl.  And the more quarters you could earn.”)

Allie really relished setting pins in league competitions.  He enjoyed listening to competitors’ banter and talking (very briefly) to physician, attorney and businessman bowlers.  And catching their quarter tips.

He treasured the fact that these successful men recognized him and called him by name.  And, at Christmastime, they’d often walk the gutters to shake his callused hand, wish him happy holidays and tip him with singles and five-dollar bills.

Although we worked in neighboring alley pits, we never became more than co-workers at that time.  We never talked about his family.  Or if he had a girlfriend.  (Twelve-year-old boys don’t think that way.) We’d just do our job, smile, and talk about some amazing spares our customers converted.

“These are good people,”Allie told me.  “Get to know them.  Some day they may be

able to help you.”

On a slow day, Pete, the alley manager, let us bowl for free.  I set pins for Allie and

he set pins for me.  It was our only perk.

When automatic pin setting machinery became practical, the bowling alley

installed them, switching from duckpins to larger kingpins.  This new technology

phased “Allie of the alleys” out of he only job he knew.

Rather than pity himself, Allie called one of his favorite league bowlers, an

industrialist who usually gave Allie  a $5 Christmas gift.  The businessman remembered Allie’s work ethic and offered him a production line job—plus free

hospitalization benefits—provided Allie attend night school and earn his GED.

Allie did—and he learned his new job quickly.  He thrived in his new career and,

within three years, earned two pay raises and was promoted to foreman.  He also studied additional technical courses.

Then he met Marie, a pretty new immigrant assigned to his crew.  At first, it was

all business. She called him “Mr. Armstrong” and “Sir”.

They both bowled on the company team and their Tuesday night matches soon

lingered into hand-holding late night suppers.

Marie listened as Allie talked about training new employees, keeping production rates high and reject rates low, motivating the crew and qualifying for team

bonuses.  He proudly told her how he rose from duckpin setter to technical

products foreman.

Allie listened to Marie’s stories about “the old country” and why she came to America.  She’d often sing beautiful songs in a language he did not understand.

And she shared her dreams, which he understood.

Their empathy blossomed into love and marriage.

Marie and Allie’s son, Tony, was born prematurely, weighing less than four pounds at birth.  Allie prayed with the hospital chaplain, then called Dr. Paul Gearhardt, another ol’ bowling customer, who personally supervised Tony’s neo-natal care.   The baby thrived and went home in 10 days.

Allie continued to grow, working his way up to supervisor and he eventually put his son through college.

Allie’s life odyssey continues.  He and Marie still bowl and eat pancakes on Tuesday nights—where they re-live dreams and anticipate Tony’s forthcoming wedding.

In his first post-hiring meetings with new employees, Allie describes what’s truly important in life: God, hard work, love, family, friends and, yes, duckpins.

Ron Gold

outthinkresumes@aol.com