My First Job

I was 11 years old when I got my first job, delivering the [monthly] Air Force Times door-to-door in our neighborhood in Wiesbaden, Germany. I’d start at about 5 p.m. and walk the neighborhood for about five hours trying to sell them.

I remember the paper selling for 25 cents, and I got to keep five cents for every one I sold. I [used] my earnings as seed money for another business my brother and I created. We used to walk or bike into town, which was about two miles away, and buy these wonderful, exotic German candies.

 

When we got home, we’d divide them into shoeboxes, mark them up in price and sell them to neighborhood kids. We sold a lot because it was easier to get them from us than to go into town themselves.

The first few times I delivered the paper, I thought I wasn’t as successful as I could be. I realized I needed to hone my skills, ask the right questions and be a little persistent. I remember my father telling me the only place success came before work was in the dictionary—and this job taught me that.

I also learned the lesson of treating customers well. There were a lot of doors I knocked on where people weren’t very nice to me. I had to learn that it wasn’t personal. Selling papers taught me to always make people feel important and be nice to them, no matter who they are or what they do.

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