Sunshine Gardens

Something I saw on TV reminded me of my first job. It was the fall of 1959. I was 15 years old and I had just started my Sophomore year in high school. One day, my Biology teacher, Mr. Tenneboe, asked me if I would be interested in delivering flowers for one of the local florists. (Apparently, the manager had contacted the high school Biology department looking for a reliable candidate.) I had just learned to drive the previous spring so I was feeling pretty confident in my driving skills. I told Mr. Tenneboe that I was interested and we set up an interview. I went to Sunshine Gardens after school and spoke with the manager. He said my duties would be to make daily deliveries to the two city hospitals, then to stop by the Post Office and pick up the mail on my way back to the store. That sounded fine to me. The next step was for him to accompany me on the first trip so he could see how I drove, show me the procedure for leaving flowers at the hospital and show me where the Post Office box was located. Easy, yes? Well, I thought so... right up to the point when I sat down in the driver's seat of the 1949 Plymouth station wagon that they used for deliveries.
IT WAS A STICK SHIFT! GULP! I learned to drive our family car that was an automatic! I had no idea how to drive a stick.
A normal, rational, intelligent person would, at that point, tell the manager, "I'm sorry, I don't know how to drive a stick shift. May I come back in a week or so after I learn how? But not me. I just pushed in the clutch, turned on the ignition, put it in first, and AWAY WE WENT! We lurched and jerked and bucked and swerved but eventually I got through all three forward gears. Every time we came to a stop sign or red light I repeated the bucking bronco routine. Somehow we made it to the hospital and dropped off the flowers. Then we lurched our way over to the Post Office. All around the Post Office was diagonal parking. That meant I'd have to back up. Oh well. We picked up the mail, got in the station wagon, and I started to back up. The old wagon jerked and stalled and slowly rolled back to the curb. I tried again. It died again. The third time, I gave it more gas... a lot more gas. The tires squeeled and the station wagon shot out of the parking spot. I had to slam on the brakes to keep us from backing all the way into the opposite direction traffic. When we got back to Sunshine Gardens the manager asked me to come in his office. He said that he wanted me to work in the greenhouse instead of delivering flowers. Really? Okay! The next day I reported for duty in the greenhouse. The manager took me out back where a dump truck had left a HUGE pile dry sheep manure. Next to the pile were several 55 gallon drums that had the tops cut off. On top of one drum was a screen with a wooden frame around it. The manager said my job was to shovel manure on the screen then shake it to sift the fine particles into the drum. The sifted manure was a key ingredient in their starter fertilizer. I shoveled several scoops of manure onto the screen and started shaking. Interestingly, the process of sifting dry sheep manure creates a cloud of fine green particles that stick to your hair, clothes, shoes, and any exposed skin. A couple of hours later, it was time to close the store and my first day in the greenhouse was done. I'm not sure what I looked like with my coating of sheep manure. My mom made me undress in the garage.
I spent an entire week sifting sheep manure before I cross trained on painting starter boxes with linseed oil. WhooHoo! Eventually, the manager ran out of greenhouse chores and he let me go. My bad. It was nice of him to employ me for a couple of months considering I couldn't do the job I was originally hired for.
My next job was cooking hamburgers at McDonald's. But I've always been proud to tell folks that my first job was sheep shit sifting at Sunshine Gardens!