The Last Lead Holders

By Richard Deatherage

As the recession of 2008 looms, Richard Deatherage faces the daunting realization that his 30-year drafting career may soon come to an end. With the advent of computer-aided drafting (CAD) technology taking center stage in 21st-century architectural design, his beloved art of hand-drafting with a lead pencil seems destined for obsolescence.

However, for Richard, this isn’t just a matter of losing a job – it’s the loss of a passion that has driven him for decades. Yet, he discovers that the diversities that shaped his character and strengths over a lifetime of experience can still be drawn upon to find a new path towards fulfillment.

In this inspiring memoir, Richard shares his journey of coming to terms with a changing industry, and how he tapped into the resilience and creativity that he had developed over the years to carve out a new niche for himself. With a candid and insightful voice, he shows how, even when faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges, one can continue to pursue their passions and find joy in their work.

For anyone facing the upheaval of a changing industry or struggling to find their place in the workforce, Richard’s story serves as a beacon of hope and a reminder that with determination and a willingness to adapt, one can thrive even in the face of adversity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Sep 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886936636

Richard Deatherage

Richard Deatherage was born in Santa Maria, California. Being versatile in his career, he is a finish carpenter, architectural draftsman, builder and avid fly fisherman… building large commercial projects throughout the west coast of the United States of America. Disguised as a construction superintendent, Richard works for large contractors, and goes fly fishing every chance he can throughout the Pacific Northwest, Washington, Oregon, California, and Nevada. He lives in Northern California.

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About the Author

Richard Deatherage born in Santa Maria, California. Being Versatile in his career, he is a finish carpenter, architectural draftsman, construction superintendent and avid fly fisherman! Building large commercial projects throughout the west coast of the United States of America, fly fishing every chance he can throughout the Pacific north west; Washington, Oregon, California and Nevada…lives in Northern California.

Dedication

To my wife, Sarah

Copyright Information ©

Richard Deatherage 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of the author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Deatherage, Richard

The Last Lead Holders

ISBN 9798886936629 (Paperback)

ISBN 9798886936636 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023911920

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgment

To the teachers, mentors and business professionals who go out of their way to share their knowledge and to spark that passion to dream the impossible.

Chapter 1

Observation Kind of Guy

In the late 1970s, inflation had the interest rates jacked up sky-high and we were all at an economic standstill. Gas was $1.20 a gallon in 1977 and I was in the business of mowing grass in the neighborhood for extra money that summer.

Watching gas prices going up and taking my profits from my set mowing prices, I needed to raise my prices. Soon, I was losing customers with the mark-up in my new mower prices, finding out about inflation the hard way at the age of fourteen.

But I would have to say the worst thing of all was that I was soon to get my learner’s permit to start driving later that year. Things were not looking any better for getting a job and, worst of all, getting a car was just out of the question.

After talking with my father, he told me some advice that I would never forget…that my grandpa had told him years before.

I believe that Will Rogers said it best about men, my dad told me when I started high school.

Quote: ‘There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves’. Which one will you be?

I thought about it for a while and figured that I was the kind of guy who would learn by observation, because peeing on the electric fence sounded awful painful and I did not like to read that much.

When I started my freshman year at San Juan High School in 1977, my dad explained to me that in six months’ time, when I would become fifteen years old, I would be old enough to get my work permit and get my first real paying job.

I was not looking that far ahead at the time and I started to think of different ways to make money to pay for my car insurance and to begin driving. It was something I was looking forward to and I was counting the days until my birthday that winter.

Girls were now on my radar at fourteen years of age at school that year but, growing up with three brothers, I still had no idea what girls were really all about.

They were a mystery to me still, and talking to the opposite sex was out of the question at the time. I’d just clam up when a girl sparked up a conversation with me; I’d have nothing to say.

I had no idea how to approach girls throughout junior high. The last time I had had an encounter with a girl was at the school dance in Jr. high school. She was the one that asked me to dance…being painfully shy and awkward, my shyness continued until one morning…

I was riding my bike to high school early in my freshman year when I saw a girl that I had been observing on my journeys to school. Why? Because I was an observation kind of guy…

I still did not have a girlfriend at the time and I knew her as a girlfriend of a guy in my band class. She was a bubbly, cute blonde and was part of the majorette squad team.

The marching band and majorette squad practiced together after school at the football field and I got to know her better through her boyfriend as the school year started.

She was fun to be around and easy to talk to as well. She lit up a room with her personality when she walked in and using my keen observational skills, I finally felt comfortable talking with the opposite sex for the first time in my life. I had my first crush on a girl.

Soon, early on into the new school year, there was a rumor going around that the guy she was dating had been going out with another girl during the summer. She found out about it and really let into him during school one day—man, I was impressed. She could really handle herself too.

They soon broke up and she was available. I was a working man cutting grass for a living at the time and I did not have a car or the extra money to ask her out on a date.

So, I did the next best thing, a month later after things had cooled down for her…I finally got the nerve to ask her out to go to the lake and hang out with my friends. She said yes.

Being a sophomore and the only girl I had ever felt comfortable around, we soon hit it off. Soon, we were making plans together. Going roller skating, going to the drive-in theater, and making out in her car.

Months later, one thing had led to another and we had become lovers for the first time. She had a small Datsun 210 two-door car that we dubbed ‘the coke can’ because it was white with a red stripe down the side. I don’t know how we did it in that small car but we found a way.

We were known as a couple at school; I hung out with some of her friends and we hung out with some of my friends that year. I was in my first relationship and what a time it was, life was good.

I was motivated and needed to find a way to make extra cash to take my first girlfriend out on the town. Mowing grass was paying but not paying very well. I needed a new way to make some cash and fast!

I was in my morning art class the day that our school had issued our report cards to take home to our parents after school and I had received a bad grade on my report card…Man, I did not want my parents to see that grade. I began thinking of how I could change the bad grade into a good grade?

I had observed in my art class—because I was an observation kind of guy—that there was an art chalk that could match the paper perfectly that the report cards were typed on.

The report cards were a copy in two parts. Once typed, we were given the original to take home to show our parents. I had come up with a method where I could erase the grade with an electric eraser in art class, and use the chalk to blend into the paper perfectly without seeing the grade.

But I needed to retype a new grade. Then a light went off in my head! Hey, my mom has a typewriter at home.

I borrowed the three-inch chalk unknown to the teacher, then went home to retype the new grade and it worked! I had changed my report card grade that evening.

The next day, I found out that most of my friends still had their report cards in hand because they were still afraid to show their parents their grades.

I still had mine as well, with the same fear that my dad would see the change that I had made to it.

At lunchtime, I showed my friends that I had changed my grades on my report card in art class. What?! Let me see! Damn, that’s good, very good! You could not tell that the grade had been changed at all.

Hey, can you change this grade to an A?

Aaaah, yea, for five bucks…

By the end of the day, the orders were in and before I knew it, I was being handed report cards from kids that I did not even know; even seniors had found out about it.

Changing grades on report cards was an economic windfall for me when cash had been hard to come by. Damn, there were a lot of bad grades out there and the word spread like wildfire.

Before I knew it, I had a large stack of report cards by the end of that same day to change grades on. This was going to be real work, with results needed imminently because parents knew that the report cards were due for review that week.

That same day, I went back to my art class to ask the teacher if I could borrow the electric eraser for the evening, that I would bring it back to class the next morning. She agreed and I was on my mission.

That evening, when I got home from school, I was in my bedroom changing grades all evening using my mother’s electric typewriter. The same kind of typewriter that the school used.

The next morning was payday! Every kid that had asked me to change their grade was waiting for me to come to school with five bucks each in their hands. Some with ten bucks, because they had wanted two grades changed. I made over two