Blog #2 - From Whistles to Whiteboards—and Fatherhood

Wed, 01 Jul 2026 14:58:08 GMT

New Paragraph

On May 1, 1954, just before graduating college, he married. For the next seven years, he traded his diesel tank for a coach’s whistle and a teacher’s desk, teaching football and industrial arts.

When asked why industrial arts, he answered simply:

“Because I didn’t think sitting in a classroom teaching history sounded like much fun.”

During those years, he and his wife welcomed three boys into their family. One of them had special needs.

And once again—just like his parents before him—he found that a teacher’s salary wasn’t enough to provide the care his family needed.

So the body-shop kid… turned produce manager… turned mosquito man… turned coach… became something else entirely:

An insurance agent.

Whatever needed doing, he was willing to try. (continued in next Blog)

Blog #1 - A Man, Some Mosquitos, and a Yes That Changed Everything

Thu, 18 Dec 2025 14:56:05 GMT

To understand the beginning of SeniorAge, you have to start with a man, a cloud of mosquitos, and a single word that quietly reshaped southwest Missouri.

The man was born in a small Swiss-founded town named after a folk hero—Tell City, Indiana. His parents were teachers, but just after the Great Depression, teaching salaries couldn’t stretch far enough for a growing family. So his father became a body-shop mechanic. His mother stayed home to raise nine children—six boys and three girls.

This is the story of the fourth-born son.

As a teenager, it didn’t matter whether it was football season or baseball season—after school, he went straight to the body shop. In the 1940s, during the war, there were no shiny new cars rolling off lots. Body shops kept battered jalopies alive, rattling and clanking down American roads. Father and son worked side by side, sweated through the day, went home for dinner… then went back to work again.

From his father came a sentence that would guide his entire life: “Go to work—and do your job.”

He took those words seriously. From that moment on, he was never without work.

He paid his way through college stocking shelves, sweeping floors, running a cash register, and managing produce for Kroger. From 1950 to 1952, he served in the Army, stationed in Austria. When he returned home, he finished his degree—earning money wherever and however he could. Including one job that deserves special mention.

He became a mosquito patrolman.

Picture it: a strong young man, tank strapped to his back, crashing through woods and splashing through creeks, spraying diesel oil like some kind of Captain Marvel of pest control—singlehandedly defending humanity from mosquito attack.

He said it paid well.

But those mosquito-destroying days didn’t last. (continued in next Blog)

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Blog #2 - From Whistles to Whiteboards—and Fatherhood

Blog #1 - A Man, Some Mosquitos, and a Yes That Changed Everything