One guy was a rough gangsta looking black guy from the ghetto working as a technician for me. Upper management wanted me to fire him. Guy couldn't write well, poor speech, and people were put off by his looks and manerisms. But he was a hard worker and dedicated, and curious. I taught him about routers and programming in exchange for his troubleshooting skills with multiplexers and wiring. He watched my back when we went to ghetto areas, me a white guy in a suit apreciated his street smarts. He worked his way up to a high-paid router administrator for a complex."
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Thank you for that story. Life is interesting isn't it?
Yes, in so many ways. Sorry to hear of your ordeal with your dad passing away at a young age. Mine died when I was 19, so I also didn't get to know him as an adult or have him see how I turned out. But you learn from others that have it much worse and they work things out while giving you a few pointers. For me, it was a friend of my dad. He had gotten beaten nearly to death by several punks and set afire with gasoline dumped on him, lost use of an arm and went through many skin graft operations. But always was upbeat and helpful to others. I learned plumbing and other skills from him; useful even though I held desk jobs later. He had a great sense of humor, would ask me to rub his neck, and laugh as he asked how it felt to rub his ass (skin grafts).