David Everett was a master at running a blower. Its hurricane force wind swept the huge concrete stands, piling up used spit cups, mummified popcorn and empty bags of Skittles. He looked at his Rolex watch — he was almost finished cleaning the huge concrete stadium.
So this is what his career had come to. He reached down and put the trash into a big black plastic bag. Then he moved on to the next pile. He was getting good at moving on.
The sun was starting to rise over the Atlanta suburb. Friday night’s football matchup featured two 6A powerhouses. Thousands had cheered on their favorite teams and then left. Today, Labor Day, all remained was debris, one man, a blower and his dream. A dream that still burned brightly inside of him.
David Everett learned a long time ago that he wasn’t defined by his job. His job was defined by him.
He still remembered the day he got called into his boss’ office. His “friend” of 13 years couldn’t even look him in the eye when he handed him the pink slip. In the following weeks, he discovered (with frustration) that no one was looking for a 45-year-old highly paid news anchor. David’s promising career in television seemed over in the time it took to change the channel.
He didn’t give up, though. He kept looking for the next big job.
But in the meantime, David had a secret weapon. He wasn’t afraid to work. He took the weekend job at the local high school picking up the stadium. It paid $100 cash. He also cut grass in the neighborhood and began to use his talents in other ways. He discovered if he served others, he could get everything he needed. And that doors would start to open up. As long as he worked.
His channel had been changed, but he still had control of the remote.
Of course, people would stare and ask. “Aren’t you?…” David always smiled and replied, “Man laid off, film at 11.” That would get a smile. Then the person would say, “Isn’t this beneath you?” David would just smile and say, “No job is beneath me. Work is Holy.”
And he was right.
David’s job didn’t define him. He defined his job. And no matter what he did, he did it with excellence. Because that’s who David Everett was. He put his heart into everything he did.
David finished up the stadium, threw the big bags of trash in the dumpster and locked the gate. He got in his BMW (with a for-sale sign in the window) and smiled at the tidy stands. He basked in a job well done.
It was Labor Day and David Everett labored. And it was good.