Sunday

ORANGE COAT

 


There’s only one reason why I can recall what I did 50 years ago today- and that comes by way of relating it to an oddball event. That screwball event consisted of a “daredevil” trying to shoot himself over a canyon on a garage-built rocket while a zillion people paid to watch on private TV… so it’s easy to remember. The date was September 8th, 1974 and it was the day that I began work at my first real job. Oh, sure I did odd jobs such as popcorn vendor at the circus, or cutting people’s lawns for cash. But this was a REAL job, with a supervisor, who had a manager, who had a general manager. Yep, I was an underling making that $1.65 an hour minimum wage. Still, this was the job I’d wanted for more than a year. I was going to be an usher at the fairly new Saginaw Civic Center.


I wanted to be an usher there since both of my parents worked at the Civic Center (now the Dow Event Center) part-time. Mom had been one of, and probably the first, hourly employees hired there before the building opened in early 1972. At that time only the arena and front offices were ready to open. The whole facility wasn’t officially opened until the 6th day of May 1972, yet in order to begin generating revenue General Manager Bill Fifer and his assistant Bob Lister, had the arena opened for events in late January. My dad soon became the main Zamboni driver and we kids were in that arena ice skating nearly every weekend beginning in March of 1972. A staff of ushers acted as rink guards and aided guests during other arena events. They wore really ugly orange suit jackets and followed very strict rules like how to stand, never to sit, hands out of pockets and always be polite. I wanted that job.

The only problem was that you had to be at least 17 years of age to apply and I was too young. Finally I turned 17 in the spring of 1974, but hockey season was nearly over and they would not need ushers until the fall. Finally, as September of 1974 arrived I put my hat into the ring and applied for the job. Actually, I don’t recall ever formally interviewing for the job. My mom and dad were good friends with the Fifers and the Listers and dad had just been dubbed “Head Usher.” Thus, it was taken that I’d be on that staff, and September 8th was the first usher event for the season. It was the closed circuit, big screen showing of Evil Knievel’s Snake River Canyon jump. The show would be projected on a huge screen in Wendler Arena.

Dad as "head usher"
I’d spent the previous two weeks looking forward to this day. I got my black slacks, black shoes, white shirt and clip-on tie. Of course, since I’d been running around that place for two and a half years, I knew every seat, section, door, room and hallway and Mr. Fifer joked that I didn’t need any training at all. In fact, they made me a rink guard right away- even though the ice wouldn’t go down for more than a month. He quipped that I was probably one of the best skaters in the city, so he was sure I could handle it and my dad agreed. During the season I ended up skating three 2-hour sessions on Saturday, two on Sunday, a half hour of public free skating after ever weekend hockey game plus about a half hour between sessions just for fun. That added up to about 14 hours of ice time every week from October through April. The best part was- I got paid for it.

On the day of Evel’s canyon “jump” I was stationed in section “19”. To say this job was a no-brainer would be an understatement. To say that Evel’s “jump” would be thrilling, would be overkill. It was just a dangerous stunt using an under-engineered rocket “sled” that failed at ignition deploying its drag chute at liftoff. Yet, I got paid to stand there and watch until it was all over and everyone who’d paid to come in and see the farce finished their popcorn and went home. The announcers at the Snake River site did their best to drum up the drama, but it wasn’t much of a thrill for me. As a diehard space buff the “rocket bike” was underwhelming. Afterward I turned in my ill-fitting orange coat and went home with dad.

Hey- hockey season was coming, dad had me on his ice crew and there would be some interesting times ahead. I got to meet Karen Carpenter, went to dinner with Loretta Lynn and her crew and just before the Porter Wagner Show,

Dolly Parton sang a whole song to me while I was working at the back door to the arena. You see when you compliment the star on her sweater that has butter flies on it, and she says, “It’s for my new son- Love is like a butter fly. I’m introducing it tonight. Would you like to hear it?” You don’t say, “Naaa, I’m into rock and roll.” You say, “Why yes Ms. Parton.” And so, she ordered a stage hand to get me a chair- told me to sit in it, and sang me the whole song. I told her it would be a hit.

That first job was one of the few that I actually liked. However, it was a lot of hours and took up every weekend and usually most of my weekday evenings. But I got paid to skate… ya’ cannot beat that.