Dreams of my father, here is a strange one.

The Case

Of the

Missing Jewelry

By

DARRICK KELHEIN

     It had been a long, hard day at work. All I could think of was getting home and kicking of my shoes and eating a frozen dinner. I had turned on the news and wasn’t really watching, but just looking out the window. I saw that some clouds were moving in and somehow heard them say on the television that some storms were expected.

     A flash of lightening and a big crack of thunder caused the power to go out. It was late and I was finishing my second beer when I decided to take a couple of P.M’s. That should do it, especially after the day I had working in the hot sun. I was day dreaming when I must have fallen off to sleep.

     A knock at the door stirred me. ‘Who in the hell is bothering me at this time of night?’ I thought. I looked through the side window and saw a man that had something in his hand. I figured a salesman, peddling some kind of crap. There had been someone around earlier that had left a flyer.

    I opened the door, “What can I do for you?” I asked. “What you can do for me.” The man said as he gave a sudden push. I fell to the floor. I had just enough time to get up before he came in the door. I went for a baseball bat I had stashed in the corner. “Huh!” I moaned as I was hit from behind by another man.

     When I came to I was bound to a dining room chair. There were two men, both were drinking my beer and that pissed me off even more. They looked like Huey and Louey. One was tall, the other short and rough looking. They both smelled of body odor, eyes were bloodshot red.  The tall one was staring at me, “Hey man he’s awake now.” He said to the other man. “Alright then let’s get down to it. We need you to do something for us.” He said. “Yeah right; what do you two monkey’s want?” I said in a smart ass way.

     “We need you to steal something for us.” The tall one said. “Like what and what the hell for? You don’t think I am going to help you two bozos out, do you?” “Look smart ass you’ll do whatever we say.” The shorter one said as he slapped me across my face. “You see, we have your father and Frank Sinatra. If you want to see either one of them ever again, then you will do as we say. Get it?”

     I’m trying to get my hands free when it hit me, ‘Frank Sinatra?’ Oh no not another dream. Frank was my father’s favorite singer. My father had just passed away these dreams were driving me crazy. “Wake up!” I cried out.

     “Hey asshole, pay attention.” The tall one said and kicked me over, my head hitting the floor with a thump. Still I couldn’t wake up. “So here is the deal. You’re going to go to The Gold and Pawn Shop and you’re going to steal this list of jewelry for us. Then you will call us at this number and we will tell you what and where to go. Don’t get the police involved.” He said as he shoved the paper in my mouth. “You have until midnight, don’t be late.” One of them said as they left me still bound to the chair.

     I could tell this was going to be a long night, I had went to bed early, hoping to get some sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen. I looked at the clock, 9:00 p.m. I had three hours to do the job. Spitting the paper from my mouth, I squirmed myself free of my bindings, drank one of my last beers after watching those two have a party on the others. I took off heading towards ‘The Gold and Pawn Shop.’

     I am driving down some road and realize I have no idea where I am at, when up ahead there is a flashing light from some marque. I get closer and there in the middle of nowhere on a nowhere road is a building with a flashing lighted sign show some kind of forty-niner, gold rush character, then flashing to dollar signs.

     This must be it, I don’t see anyone around. The place looks closed. I pull the car over to one side of the building where it is very dark. I get out of the car, looking around and slowly make my way to the front door. There are glass windows with bars on the inside, the door is glass too with bars. The building looks to be an old Humpty Dumpty restaurant. I slowly make my way around the back.

    I am suddenly shocked as a couple of scared raccoons run from a dumpster. ‘It stinks back here, why is it stinking so bad?’ I wondered. I kept moving just the same. Of course the back door was completely sealed. There was a latter leading to the roof. I climbed and I didn’t feel so secure. I finally made my way to the roof. No entrances up here, but there was a vent that looked as if I could get inside if I could get it off.

     I quickly ducked down as a car went by, when doing so I found a pipe that I could use for leverage. I bent the vent and pried until the metal gave way. ‘Damn, it’s dark in there I can’t see crap.’ I go feet first, pushing my feet to each side and bracing with my hands as well. I make my way down to a level where I feel an opening and am able to kneel. As I get one knee down the rest of me falls. I come crashing down and the vent gives way to the weight of my body and the vent and me falls to the floor.

     The alarms are blaring like a fire engine. Quickly I get myself together and looking around I find the jewels in a case right in front of me. ‘Great!’ I think to myself. I head to the front door and make it out. I hear police sirens in the distance, running I make it to the car.

     I start the motor and someone knocks on the window. It’s some bum, “Hey mister can you help a brother out?” he ask. I step on it and leave spinning the tires in the gravel.

     I’m back on the road again, I don’t know this road, but I driving down it like I know where I am going. Its pitch black, no lights around, just my head lights and I am driving for what seems like hours. I look at my watch and it is almost midnight, when out of nowhere I come to a one horse town. I pull over and call the number.

     The man on the other end tells me to come inside the building in front of me. No are no lights on, I can hardly see where I am going. A few steps up toward the door, I almost trip, I look up and the tall man is standing the doorway. Startled I move toward him, he steps aside and as I walk by he pushes me. I turn and hit him as hard as I can. He disappears into the dark.

     “How nice of you to join us, you made it just in time. I trust you have what we need?” the short man asked. “I’ve got the stuff you wanted.” I said. The short man starts to look familiar. I had seen him in movies, always playing some stupid jerk. He approaches me, “Where are my jewels?” he asked. “I have them right here.” I say shaking a bag. “Look Dad, I found your watch!” I’m hold it in my left had dangling it to show. I am looking at my father and he is smiling. “Way to go kid.” says Frank Sinatra. The short man turns and mouths of to Frank and my Dad. I swing the bag hitting him in the head. The bag must have weighed a lot because the man went down for the count. I approach my father and Frank to free them, when suddenly I hit from behind. I fall to the floor and see my dog, Max licking me in the face. “Time to wake up.” he says.

    

    

    

    

In memory of my father.

The Passage Way

By

Darrick Kelhein

     The corridor was long and there were several doors on either side. It looked as though it would go on forever. I had just stepped off an elevator made of stainless steel and there were no buttons to choose what floor I wanted. It just took me here, I don’t remember going up or down, I only remember that my legs felt weak as sometimes they may just from riding up or down on an elevator. I remember feeling pain for a short while, the type of pain from sadness and heartbreak.

     The lighting of the corridor was a bright white, almost blinding. I stood in the doorway of the elevator just staring, trying to decide what to do when I felt a slight nudge on my shoulder making me take a step forward. I looked to see who was with me, but no one was there. The elevator closed behind me. I turned to look but there was nothing to see, the elevator had disappeared.

     First a step, then another; slowly I am moving down the corridor. Wanting to know what was ahead, but still wanting to wake from what was an obvious dream, but could not. Taking steps more quickly, thinking I needed to end this dream. As I approached the first door it opened slowly. I turned to look inside. Something drew me inside and there before me was a likeness of me. The man inside was showing his son how to change a tire. The young boy looked frustrated. As he tried to loosen a nut with the tire iron and was struggling, his energy alone was not enough. His father, standing behind him smiled proudly looking at his son trying so hard. The man stepped forward to lend the boy a hand. Together they both turned the nut loose.

    The scene changed to the two of them together in the bitter cold, the man that looked so familiar lying on his back under the car, he asked the boy for a tool and the boy frustrated and cold, hands the man a wrench. The man is angry as the boy handed him the wrong tool. He comes from under the car and loudly tells the boy, “If you want a job done right then do it yourself!” The boy sad and mad talks back saying, “One day I’ll make enough money to pay someone else to do this kind of crap for me!”

     The two argue a while longer; the boy turns and leaves the man alone. The man was staring, I’m watching him. He looks sad and wipes a tear from his cheek. The image fades and I turn back towards the corridor. Another nudge and I move forward. The light is almost blinding, I put my hands in front of my eyes trying to shield the light but I can’t. The bright white light is all around me swallowing me into an abyss.

     I am moving down the corridor, though I’m not sure how, I felt I was standing still. I groan out, “Uh!” again seeming as if I was trying hard to get someone wake me up from the dream. “Uh!” moaning louder still.

     Another door opens, the man is with the boy they are in a room, and there is animosity between the two. They are arguing about smoking cigarettes. “I found these in your jacket!” the man says. “What are doing going through my pockets?” the boy yells back. “I could smell the smoke on you, you reek! We’re going to do a little test to see if you really smoke, you do inhale don’t you?” “Of course I do, it wouldn’t be smoking if you didn’t!” the boy says in a smart way. I stand there and watch as the man takes a bandana and blindfolds the boy. “Alright let’s see you smoke one.” The man lights a cigarette up and places it in the boy’s mouth. “Oh God what the hell!” the boy chokes on the cigarette that was lit filter first. The boy rips off the blindfold and cusses at the man; he turns to leave but is grabbed by the man and slapped.

     I stand there feeling sad, the boy leaves and the man looks down toward the floor, and drops into a chair with is head in his hands and sobs.

     Another nudge, I squint, again I am moving down the corridor to yet another door. I’m trying to wake “Uh!” I’m screaming. The door opens again, there is darkness then the room comes into focus. The man is with the boy, now both are older.  They are arguing and fighting. The boy is saying that he needs his freedom. The scene jumps to the next day. The boy is on his motor cycle traveling a long ways from his home. Another scene, and the man and the boy are fighting again this time it is violent. The man hits the boy and the boy fights back, trying to prove he is a man. The boy loses the fight and is sleeping on the floor. The man sobs quietly. I am suddenly moving back in the corridor.  

     The brightness envelopes me, then I am at another door. I don’t want to go in. Still trying to wake up, I can’t take much more. It looks like the man and the boy are seated on a bus. “I guess we are so much alike and that is why we have a hard time getting along. I’ll agree if you agree to bend like a tree in the wind. Together we bend and meet each other at a point.” “That sounds good dad.” “Son I want you to know how proud I am of you. Joining the Marines took a lot of guts. You give them hell” The man hugs his son and a tear rolls down his cheek.

     I feel a slight nudge again and I’m in the corridor. The blinding light is relentless. Still I am trying to scream out for help to awake me.

     Another door opens, the room this time is a church. The boy, now a young man looks to be getting married. Happiness is a glow with everyone. The man is sitting in the front row, he whispers something to his wife, and a tear forms in the corner of his eyes.

      A gentle tug on my shoulder pulls me back into the corridor. I feel as though I am moving faster into the bright light. “No, no, help me,” I am crying out. I come to another door. It opens and the boy, a young man now, is in a hospital room. There is joy all around as the woman is giving birth. The young man looks on holding his wife’s hand. “It’s a boy!” the doctor exclaims. The young man has a tear rolling down his cheek as he says, “There he is, poor mans gold!”

     The young man leaves the room and waiting outside is the man. “Happy birthday dad, you have a new grandson.” The man cries tears of joy.

     Again I am forced into the brightness of the corridor. I am moving faster now when another door appears. I am moved inside, still crying and moaning out for someone to wake me. The young man now much older is talking on the phone. “Dad, you know I would like to be there to help you. I just can’t get away from my work right now.” The scene shows the father hanging up the phone and a tear appears on his face.

     Again being forced back into the corridor, all of the while screaming out, “Wake me please!” Just as I feel I might awaken I move even faster now through the corridor. The light seems even brighter now. I didn’t think it was possible for a light to be so bright. To yet another door I am nudged. Inside there is the man much older now. He is sleeping but is in much pain. The younger man is holding his father’s hand. “Please dad, forgive me for all of the times I had hurt you. I didn’t mean to be that way.” the son says quietly. The old man seems to grip his son’s hand. The room is filled with people watching and praying. The father takes his last breath and the room is filled with tears.

     I am suddenly pulled back into the corridor, blinding light, I feel pain, it’s my chest. I grab my arm, then my chest. I have a cramping feeling. I’m lying down, staring into the brightest light yet. My father appears before me and says, “Son it’s time to wake up! Return to your life, live and be happy.”

     I somehow wake myself from my dream. Lying in my bed sweating profusely I slowly sit up. I feel sore in my chest and turn and put my feet on the floor. I walk towards the bathroom, my eyes are hurting. I close the door and splash water on my face and it feels good on my eyes. I decide to stay up for fear of lapsing back into a dream. I look in the mirror and see the face of my father.

     I miss my father and wish I could have spent more time with him. Though I remember that we were so much alike and it was difficult to be around him for long periods of time. We liked to conflict with each other over most everything. I think we did this to each other throughout our lives but, when it was time to leave, we would always say that we loved each other.

Peace and love Dad

The River

By DARRICK KELHEIN

     We lived in Northern Indiana and our home was situated on the banks of the Saint Mary’s river. When my family first moved there I was eight years old. It was nineteen sixty one. This was a time that our country was really growing. It was a time when industry in the mid-west towns was prospering. There were many factories in the city of Fort Wayne. Both of my parents worked in some of those factories. Back then the pay was meager compared to today’s standards. If someone worked for twenty years for a company they could plan on a retirement and go living a decent life.

     As children of that era we weren’t subjected to the type of violence that we have today. That’s not to say that crime didn’t exist, it did. But as a kid these were no matters to you. We played outside all day when we were not in school. We were able to roam the streets usually within a couple of blocks.

     Where we lived was a dead end street that became an alley. This was our everyday playground. We played in the street without worrying about cars flying at some stupid speed.

     Behind our house was the Saint Mary’s River. It was known as one of the three rivers in our town. The river was for a place where I learned to fish. All of my friends that lived close by would and I would go fishing almost every day in the summers. This river was our favorite playground. When we weren’t fishing we were playing war and cowboys and Indians.

     The river was a place for discovery. We would find odd things floating in the river. We would find a lot of things on the ends of our fishing lines too. There had been a few times we would find row boats just floating down the river. It was like striking gold. We would play in the boats that we found and then when my dad would get home we tell of our find and he would report it to the police.

     The great thing about that was that if no one claimed it in thirty days we could keep it. That didn’t happen very much at all. Some of the best things that we would find would be a bicycle. Sometimes there were ten speed Schwinn’s. I never really wanted to tell dad but then I would imagine what it would be like if someone had stolen by bike. I knew that I would like it back too.

     On the river we could go one direction and it would take us toward some of our friend’s homes. They too lived on the river. If we continued along that direction we would come to the Bluffton Road Bridge. This bridge was at the busiest intersection in town. We would play under the bridge. We could climb in between the columns that supported the bridge. If we crossed to the other side we were close to Hall’s, a local restaurant. In the same place was a great bowling alley where we all first learned to bowl. Also in this plaza was for time was the largest movie theater. Behind that was a super market and a store called Kings, it was very much like a K-Mart only without the Blue Light specials.

     If we had climbed straight through the bridge we would come out into Foster Park. Foster Park was one of the biggest parks in the city. It was beautiful with flowers always blooming and lots of trees. The park followed along the river. We would walk the trails and come to a playground with swings and monkey bars and a stone drinking fountain that we loved to play in.

    As we continued along the trail on the river bank we would pass pavilions with people sitting and having picnics. Sometimes there would be couples kissing and holding hands. There was a drive that followed parallel to the river and the trail. On the other side of the drive was an eighteen hole golf course. A few of us learned to play there. As we followed along the trail we came to a narrow foot bridge that would take us across the river. This would be one of our favorite spots to play. This was where the men were separated from the boys.

      We would climb up on the handrails, they were only about four inches wide, and walk across, balancing ourselves with no hands. We had got to be so good at this that it was the only way for us to cross the river.

     As we followed along the trail it would take us through a wooded area where we would play and try to hide from one another and then jump out scaring the wits out of each other. Then continuing along the trail we would come out at the back of the park where there were three baseball diamonds. Here to we learned to play organized baseball.

     Making this journey to the park and back following the river would usually take all day. We always knew how much time we had before our parents would get home.

     On other days we would go the other direction along the river. Within minutes we would be deep in a wooded area. Other than the park this would be our second favorite place to play.

     There would be vines hanging from the trees and one of the best ones was on a tree right next to the river. We would swing out across the water. Never meaning to fall in, the edge of the river bank was a murky black mud. It smelled nasty. Our mothers would have a fit if we came home as we sometimes did smelling and looking like we had been tarred. We would play like we were Tarzan trying to swing from tree to tree.

     Just past the woods was a set of railroad tracks. We would climb the high hill to the tracks and we would play there too. We would find half used flares and we would try to light them with matches. Once in a while we would get them to light.

     We would play chicken with the trains sometimes of course we thought we were invincible. A few times we all had the crap scared out of us. We would sometimes lay pennies on the rail and then try to find them after the trains would go by. We only ever found but a few that had been flatten and odd shaped.

     Times weren’t always fun along the river. Sometimes we would run into some kids older than we were. This almost always meant that they were bullies. The river taught us another lesson, how to fight. You could always count on a few of us ending up in the river.

     Sammy was the neighborhood dog. None of us owned him. Sammy could swim across the river and back and almost always came along with us when we were playing. Some of the times that we knew we were in trouble with these bullies, Sammy would show up out of nowhere and scare off some of the older kids.

     I think Sammy loved playing on the river as much as we did. He could play fetch and would chase a stick that one of us would throw half way across the river. Sammy was one of us.

     The river was the first place that I learned to skip stones. We would see who could skip the most skips as well as who could skip a stone furthest.

     When fall came we would rake the leaves in my yard and dump them over the river bank. The part of the river bank we lived on was high off the river. After we finished raking the leaves onto the river bank we would challenge each other as to who could jump the longest down the river bank.

     We would get a good running start and right as we got to the edge of the bank we would leap as high and with as much force as we could muster and fly through the air to land into the pillow like softness of the leaves.

     When winter came the river would freeze over and the scenery was a beautiful sight. Most of us had ice skates and we were warned of not to skate on the river. But still some of us would chance it. One time I went along and we were having a great time when suddenly a crack in the ice happened. We skated as fast as we could, trying to out run the crack just barely making it across to the edge of the river bank.

     In the spring the ice would melt and we would watch and pretend that the huge ice chunks were glaciers swiftly flowing by. Then almost every spring the river would rise and flood over the banks that were low to the river. With the arrival of spring meant that soon we would have our playground back and we would soon seek out the mysteries that the river had left behind for us to discover.

Hello, how is everyone doing? This story is a story of a man, my father. Please enjoy this memory of my father.

The Charming Man

By

DARRICK KELHEIN

     May 30^th. 1930 a charming baby boy was born. Charming indeed, when he arrived to his new family, he cracked a smile to the nurse that helped to deliver him. Already flirting at the tender age of zero, he was an easy delivery for his mother whom had been through this several times already before. He was the first born boy and would become the leader of the children in his family. In all there was a total seven siblings, he was near the middle. He had more sisters than brothers with him being one of three boys.

     How devastating it must have felt for his mother to have found out that she was pregnant with her first son, coming at the very beginning of the Great Depression. The depression started September 1929 and nine months later he was born. The family was poor while the father for whom he was named worked many different jobs being paid menial amounts of money but somehow made ends meet by just getting by with enough to keep a house and to have food on the table. The depression lasted for ten years. So during those early years of the oldest boy’s life there were no new toys or bicycles or having the kind of foods that we have grown up with. Potatoes was to be the main food on the table, used almost daily with the children fighting to be the ones that got the chance to lick the pan that the potatoes were made in.

     With the nickname of ‘Patches’ the boy went to school with hand me down clothes donated from neighbors and friends of the family which his loving mother mended and patched. Now days it is hard to imagine not having whatever we wanted to eat; or the thought of keeping clothes that have worn out or have holes in the knees. We toss away things that during that time, was considered, nothing wrong, and probably a sin.

     The boy charmed his teachers and in some of the cases was considered a teacher’s pet. He had many friends and many were girls. This boy excelled in school and in life. He never backed down when there was trouble and came to his sisters and brothers defense. No one messed with his family.

     As the ‘Great Depression’ drew to close at the end of the 1930’s, there was new turmoil for his family to face. The family was of German decent and their name brought trouble for the family. The Germans were looked upon as an evil people, as Hitler, the leader of what he claimed as the greatest race was in the process of trying to take over the world.

     With the name ‘Heinkel’ the name was represented in Germany by a family of the same name that were aviators and supplied the German cause with aircraft that proved to be major for offensive causes. So with the name becoming popular to the world, trouble came to this humble family. The children had to run to school to avoid bullies that attacked them. This charming man stood his ground protecting, the best that he could, his brothers and sisters. One night there was a cross that was burned in the front of the family’s home.

     The next day there would be no school, no going to government food lines. No one left the house except for his father and the charming young man so that they may remove the charred remains of the burnt wood. Police came but there was not much that they could do. After a couple days the children all returned to school. Patches earned a new nickname, ‘Krout’.

     As the years went past the charming boy and his two brothers became well known in their school and neighborhood. They and a few friends who were also German decent became known as the ‘Wells Street Gang’. They were not trouble makers however trouble seemed to find them. They never backed down from anyone and when a brother or a sister or anyone that could not help themselves young or old, if needed a hand, they would be there for them.

     The boys stayed together all the while they grew up. If they went into a restaurant or a bar, people would clear a path and a table would be there for them. They didn’t demand respect but they got it. The Charming Boy became the Charming Man. Through the years he grew strong and carried a physic that proved his physical strength. The Charming Man, great smile, dark hair slicked back, muscles flexed and a natural leader.

      The Heinkel family was raised as devout Catholics. The charming man was an altar boy for a few years and thought to become a priest. When he graduated high school he went to the Saint Mary’s Seminary in Baltimore the country’s oldest seminary. He was gone for about one year when he became sick for home. He returned and worked some jobs in factories until 1950 when he joined the United States Navy. He was a Seaman and was stationed at Corpus Christi Naval Base in Texas.

     The Charming Man was respected by his fellow sailors and on his twenty first birthday he was greeted in formation to celebrate. His platoon formed a line and took turns spanking him with a special paddle made in his honor. On it was displayed a nickname that he remembered from his past, ‘Krout’. That year also became a more memorable one. He finally charmed his way into the heart of what became his lifetime friend and wife. Mary Louise Moorefield, she was sixteen and he was twenty one. Outlandish by today’s standards but in those times it was the norm.  

     Two years later in 1953, the family that the two often talked about became a reality with the birth of the first child with four more to follow over the next ten years.

     Though times would never again be like when the Charming Man was born he would never forget those times. He always wanted better for his family. Taking an old fixer upper home and making it home for most of his children’s growing years until they went on their own. At the dinner table all food on the plate was to be eaten. ‘Waste not, want not’ was a term we all came to know. I’m sure that we all used the same term at some time or another.

     The Charming Man loved a cars beauty as much as he loved a woman’s beauty. He loved Oldsmobile’s but could never afford one that was new. He bought ones that were in great condition and did most of the maintenance himself. He told me when I was young; he was trying to instill in me the value of doing things yourself, that ‘that a fool and his money are soon parted’. Along with and usually in the same breath, ‘don’t put off for tomorrow, what you can do today’. It would be bitter cold with the snow blowing and he would be doing some kind of work on one of his cars. He never had the luxury of owning a garage until years later and he used it for a wood shop and for storage.

     The Charming Man taught me love for woodworking. One day when he was making a project he had just finished sanding a piece and instructed me to feel it. It was real smooth and to smell the freshly cut and sanded wood. It was just something a person will always remember. He could use his imagination to create without the use of instructions, just as a composer has an ear for the music.

     The Charming Man had a green thumb and was a gardener though he could never figure out how to get grass to grow in our family’s front yard; he succumbed to letting the mighty oak tree win the battle.

  The Charming Man was a dreamer and I suppose that is something I inherited from him, I know he dreamed of the heavens above and this was something that his father shared with him, I still remember many nights with both my father and my grandfather looking at the heavens through a telescope and my grandfather’s binoculars. We looked at the planets and the constellations way past our bed times.

     My father through the years always was charming to girls and women even when he was in pain and in the hospital he would charm. If at a restaurant he would charm the waitress. So in sickness and in health The Charming Man stayed charming and will stay that way to the end.

     

Climbing to the Top!

Hello again. I know ,I know, it's been a while since my last posting. Please forgive me as the career path that I have chosen has been keeping me busy. If fact I now own my own route. Along with that comes all of the challenges of being a small nbusiness owner. Before when I worked for other companies all I really had to do was sell. That's all I ever had on my mind. To make commission. Well I still have to make commission, but I also have to worry about paying for all of the expenses for opperating a business.
Now we have things rolling along just fine. I am still praticing all of the skills that I have learned through the years. I am having more fun now more than ever before.
With that being said I will be updating this blog with new and exciting sucess stories every Wenesday. So please give me your comments and share any sucess stories about yourself or someone you know.
See you next week.

Part 95: Climbing To The Top!

Wow! What a week. Seems that starting a new career path can be a challenge. For the past five weeks I have been working in a new direction with my sales indeavor. Still working with food products and still preforming route sales. The part that really works on you is that with all of the experience that I have my training was only seven days long. So, in the minds of others that know your skills think that you can do the job right now.

Though that may be true to some extent, there are differences that need to be adressed and taught. So my learning curve is shorter then someone that has less time selling route sales. ie. driving a route truck safely, knowing back door proceedures at the markets, and so forth. However understanding how well certain products sell or don't in certain stores needs to be taught, and trained to all new employees.

In the seven days I was 'trained' the training was mostly about how to load the truck and just runing the route. The route was set up for no time for just covering the customers. No time for selling. No time for doing the job the right way. Even making back door times were a challenge.

Thankfully this all will change as the routes are being re-engineered. That is to say that the routes are being made over to make it so that all customers will be serviced to a more complete extent. These kind of changes made to routes have to be done when a territory becomes harder to make because the customer count has grown or the business within the accounts has grown to where service starts to lag.

Going through this process for the salesperson can be stressful. Most of the concern is usually about the bottom line, paycheck. In some cases it is true that the pay will be lower at least for a little while. If you are a salesperson then you will dig a little deeper and find a way to sell more with the customers that you have. You will or should look for new opportunities within your route.

In my case two major companies have joined together to become the second largest snack food company in the country. Re-engineering the routes had to happen because of the sheer number of products from the two combined companies. With nearly double the number of UPC's the routes had to be redone. Now with less customers to service there will be more dollars per account and more time to do what we do best, sell.

Part 95 Climbing To The Top!

Wow! I guess time got away from me it has been a month since I last posted with you. I bet some of you are wondering what happened? Here goes, I have departed from my job as salesman with Frito Lay. I took a couple of weeks searching for some  other challenge for my sales career. I contacted the manager of a company that had been a competitor.  Snyder Lance Snacks I was received with open arms. For this I am grateful.
Now I want to talk about 'Networking'. When I was servicing my accounts when I was on the route or when I was a sales manager I always treated my competitors with respect. You know the old adage [Keep you friends close and keep your enemies closer]. I believe that the same works in the sales world. Along the way I would introduce myself to all competitors and fellow vendors. In the market we are like a family. Yes we all try to get along and yes there are times when we are all fighting for the same space. It can be love, hate, but the fact remains that we all are still in a family of sales reps for our companies.
The companies don't always seem to share these beliefs. They would rather you show no mercy. Take no prisoners and get everything that you can. In the last company I was with they had special ball caps made for the salespeople with the letters KTC on them. Kill The Competition. Now that not to say that I don't get motivated because I do. I always try to get as much as I can from a customer. Still I am not out to kill my fellow vendors. I believe that competition breeds business.
So in networking you should know as many of the people around you and show then respect as you would want them to show you. Collect business cards and phone numbers and e mails. Make contact from time to time. Keep your family close.