Working is in my DNA. Going back as far as my experience allows, both my grandfathers were hard workers. They are still an inspiration to me to this day, even though they have been gone for decades.
My maternal grandfather, Walter, was a cobbler by trade. He was also a deaf-mute. I guess today the term is hearing and speaking impaired. He could “speak” a little, but he was difficult to understand, so most of the time he signed. Not hearing didn’t seem to hold him back.
When WWI started, he succeeded in enlisting in the Army because of his ability to read lips. He managed to make it all the way to basic training before being discovered. As told to me, a Staff Sergeant walked up behind him, without his knowledge, and began barking orders at him. When he didn’t respond, the Sergeant grabbed him, spun him around and asked if he was deaf …
Well, you can imagine what happened next. In a quick and quiet, embarrassing way, the Army sent him home.
He went to work in a shoe repair shop and became quite the shoe cobbler. Learning the trade he succeeding in owning his own shop.
I had great respect for him and I know it shaped me into who I am.