He took the job when he was twenty years old, and stayed on the same job for forty-seven years, until the day he died. I can count on my hand the number of people who stayed on the same job for forty-seven years.
Our family tried to get him to retire but he would not. We tried to get him out of Chicago, but he wouldn’t budge. We used to say, “You could leave that job, and work another job and get double retirement, plus social security.” He would listen with a smile, feigning interest, then completely ignore our advice.
I concluded that he was happy right where he was. Randy, as we called him, fell in love with the 1700 Building and its residents. The 1700 Building is a forty-story building with about eight condominium owners on each floor. They spoiled Randy, and Randy spoiled them. Every time I would stop by to see him, he had two or three dinners from somebody in the backroom.
When people would come home, he would joyfully sing their name in a very articulate way that made them feel special. Randy was not lazy. If you or one of your guests pulled up in a car, he was out front quickly with a cart to assist you in any way possible.
