Why the Trades Feel Like Home to Me
Why the Trades Feel Like Home to Me
Last Friday, around 7 a.m., I stopped at a local gas station. The lot was full of people starting their day: tree trimmers, electrical workers, an HVAC company, a concrete guy, landscapers and a construction crew. That was just what I noticed during a quick stop for gas.
A feeling came over me that I couldn’t quite place at first. I felt at home, and a little homesick at the same time.
Then I realized I was seeing my dad and my brothers.
They were Framers. They were out the door by 6:30 or 7 every morning and worked hard all day. My brothers would come home and, instead of settling in front of the TV, go build a fence, help a neighbor or show up at a kid’s soccer game. They seemed to be going all the time.
They were amazing at what they did. They had the biggest hearts, too. They were kind, generous, funny and a little crass at times. I’m pretty sure that’s where I got my sense of humor—and a few curse words.
Growing up with them taught me to work hard, but it also taught me to see the talent in the trades. I saw the pride they took in their work and the way they showed up for other people. I know that kind of work can be hard on a body. The aches and pains aren’t always visible to the rest of us.
These are the people I think about when I meet owners of small, family-built businesses.
They’ve spent years doing the work, supporting their families, earning a reputation and giving more of themselves than most people will ever know. Often, they speak about it as if they simply did what needed to be done.
Maybe that’s why I feel so close to them. I understand where they came from. I respect what they can do. And when they begin thinking about the next chapter of their lives, I want them to know that what they built matters.
I went to that gas station for fuel. I left with a reminder of my family, my upbringing and a big part of why I love the work I do today.
— Mary Keller Wynn
Thanks,
Marco Antonio
