I was in the Air Force at the time. I actually liked being in the Air Force. I was an instructor and I enjoyed my work. I might even stay for the whole 20 years to get a retirement, but there were rising concerns. There was talk of limiting promotions, blocking retirement options, and even decreasing benefits like health care.
I got a call from a guy I had worked with years before. He was working for a company in California that wanted to hire me. I told him I was interested, but it was not possible. I couldn't get out to California for an interview and I still had two years on my current enlistment. So he had the vice president of the company fly to Syracuse to interview me. He liked what he saw, so he offered me a job with a salary $10,000 a year higher than I thought I needed in civilian life in California. "Well," I told him, "I'm certainly interested, but I still have two years on my enlistment." "The offer will remain open," he answered.
The next week the Air Force announced a major force reduction. "Anyone who wants to get out can get out." It was unprecedented. So, with a job offer in hand, I notified my supervisor that I planned to get out. "Oh, you can't," he assured me. "We're making this base the training location for the entire northeast quadrant of the United States. We need you and two more like you." Well, okay, but I filed the paperwork anyway. No way to lose, you know. I liked being in and I had a good offer if I got out.
My supervisor was astounded when the paperwork came back approved. So I started a month of terminal leave, packed up the family, and headed to California (our original home). Once there I contacted my friend and told him I was ready to start work. "Oh, no," he said. "We've hit a downturn. We're laying people off and can't hire anyone." So there we were, our little family of four, staying with my parents while I valiantly looked for work as my terminal leave from the Air Force counted down.
My father came back from a visit to Orange County and brought me a newspaper. I looked through the want ads and contacted all the possible places I could work. One called me back for an interview. During the interview, one of the vice presidents asked me how I had heard about them. I told him about the ad in the paper. "But," he said to the other interviewer at the time, "we didn't put an ad in the paper." All three of us were baffled.
I was offered the job and would start work a few days before the end of my terminal leave. "We don't actually hire right off," my new supervisor told me. "What we do is have you work for us from a temporary service. After 90 days, if it all works out, we hire you and then your benefits go into effect." That was 90 days without health insurance and such. But it was a job and a good one, so I would cross my fingers and go ahead. Of course, crossing fingers isn't nearly efficient as Providence. When I started work my boss told me, "We've decided to waive the 90 day requirement and you're hired outright. Your benefits will be effective immediately." So when my military benefits terminated, my civilian job benefits were in place and my family was covered.
We had gone from military to civilian, from enlisted to unemployed to well employed. We did it with job offers that didn't pan out and want ads that were never placed. All very confusing, I'm sure, but one thing of which I was quite sure. I had just witnessed the touch of the Master's hand.
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