You Should Get a Job

Well, its been almost a year since I have written anything in my blog. It seems there are a lot of similar kinds of blogs out there where people recount their races and publish long race reports. I occasionally read amateur and pro race reports myself. I hate to say it but most of the time, they are pretty boring. As a person whose writing is somewhere in between "high school essay" and "college essay" quality with a wish it was more like classic Douglas Adams, I realized that my race reports were also likely boring and that realization killed my motivation to sit down and record my thoughts. However, I mostly do this for myself so, with effort, I am going to inject some life back into my blog. 

Before I get to race reports though, I have something to share about a special person who we recently lost. 

Richard LeFrancois was one of my neighbors growing up in Vienna, VA. Mr. LeFrancois as we called him was a really great man and a good friend to our family. He and my dad worked together on many projects and my brother John was really fond of him. John hung on his every word and Mr. L, as we sometimes called him, would invoke deep laughter from John.

Mr. LeFrancois was a very generous person. He gave one of the most precious things anyone could give. His time. He donated his time to help others. He volunteered, he drove near and far to rescue stranded friends and family. He was a hard worker and truly an inspiring person. He was also so cool. Not James Dean cool mind you. His coolness came from his warmth. He never seemed stressed and somehow he projected that warmth and grounded personality onto those around him. 

I have many stories of how Mr. LeFrancois helped my family and want to share a few them now. When John and I were young, we used to travel with my dad to Southwest Virginia to visit my grandmother. I am not sure how old we were at the time but we were in elementary school so we were pretty young. We were traveling back from Southwest VA in one of my dad's little compact Fiats. The car was one of those little economy cars that got great gas mileage but did not have many creature comforts. On this trip, the Fiat broke down near Harrisonburg, VA. Back then, we did not have cell phones or AAA but we had something better. We had Mr. LeFrancois as a friend. 

We holed up in the lobby of the Howard Johnson's Inn on Interstate 81, the hypotenuse of Virginia while my dad put in a call to Mr. L. Mr L dropped what he was doing and drove his red pickup truck the two hours to Harrisonburg to tow the car home. John and I sat in the cab of the truck while my dad sat in the Fiat. After all, the truck was not a tow truck. Mr. L had simply used some chains to tether the car to the back of the truck. My dad had to steer and brake as we made the trip home. It seemed like a very long trip as it was so late and we had to drive sort of slow. But we made it home late that night, all in one piece. It was at that time that I learned a phrase from Mr LeFrancois. He said, "you know what Fiat stands for right? Fix it again Tony." At my age, I didn't appreciate it but later in life, I learned the humor. More importantly, I can hear him saying that to me in my head. I will always have that memory to draw upon. Mr LeFrancois brought levity to situations of stress. At least that is the way I remember him. 

Fast forward several years. My brother Erik was on his way to Virginia Tech or on his way back when he broke down on the side of the Interstate. Erik called my Dad who in turn called Mr. LeFrancois. Again, Mr. L dropped what he was doing so he could help. Erik waited patiently for the rescue. Not sure what to expect, Erik was a little surprised when Mr LeFrancois drove up in a flat bed truck and my dad drove up in another car. The car was for Erik and his friends to continue their trip. Mr. L and my dad loaded the broken down car onto the flat bed and drove it back to Vienna. Again, Mr. L had saved the day.

Besides saving stranded motorists Mr L donated a great deal of time to Vienna Youth Soccer. If you played soccer in the 70s and 80s in Vienna, you were likely playing on a field that was built and maintained by Mr. LeFrancois. He and my dad would lay out the fields with walking wheels, rope, and good old engineering skills. Dick would cut the fields, deliver goal posts, nets, and chalk. He was very active in all of the behind the scenes work required to keep youth sports going. At my Dad's internment at Arlington National Cemetery, I was walking next to Mr. L when someone asked how he knew my Dad. He replied with pride that he and my dad were activists in youth sports. That word really struck me as a very accurate way to describe him. He was an activist in the true sense of the word. He really knew how to get things done. 

Mr. L also had a big impact on my brother John. It may have seemed like a very small thing but with two statements, Dick would set in motion something quite profound. My brother John was born with Spina Bifida. For those of you who have managed to make your way through my blog, you know a lot about his challenges. One day John told my dad that he really would like to ride a bike. John rode a Hotwheel and a trike when he was a child. My dad must have mentioned this in passing to Mr. LeFrancois. Dick said, "There is no reason he can't ride a bike. There are tricycles for adults that he could ride." And with that, my dad pursued an adult tricycle for John. 

The reason this important and profound has to do with the perfect machine that is the bicycle. The bicycle allowed my brother to explore the neighborhood on his own power. He could go much farther than he could walking with his crutches. He got to see more neighbors and socialize with people. The bicycle gave John greater independence and really helped him grow. It was a simple thing but it was really a gift that Mr. LeFrancois gave to John. A simple idea with big ramifications. 

Mr. LeFrancois had a big impact on my life as well. He was similar to my dad. They both liked to work hard and both were role models for me. Mr. LeFrancois taught me how to drive a big tractor. I helped him cut grass as Andrews Chapel. I helped he and my dad deliver chalk to the soccer fields in middle of the night. Working with him and my dad made me feel good. I felt very useful and more grown up. 

Also, I have to share another story of how one simple sentence or two helped shape my life. After high school, I deferred my enrollment to Roanoke College. I was not ready to go to college and had some emotional growth that was needed before taking on the stresses of college. That summer after graduation, I was cutting grass with Mr. LeFrancois. We were on a break and he simply said, "So what do you have planned for the summer?" I told him I was not sure. He said, "You should get a job." I simply nodded my head. I had summer jobs all through high school but had nothing lined up for this summer. I told him I was not sure where I could find something. Well, don't you know it, he knew someone who might have a job opening. 

With a phone call, he got me a job interview at Woodies Department Store. It was a loading dock job. I worked there for a year, toting boxes and clothes, packing and unpacking trucks, meeting all kinds of people, and working 8 hours a day. I really grew emotionally during that time. I learned what it meant to work hard every day. When I got to college in the Fall of 1987, I discovered I was more mature than my fellow Freshmen. I avoided all the pitfalls that can distract a young person's mind from the reasons why one goes to college. The year of working hard at a manual labor type of job taught me to be consistent and persistent. I went on to graduate with honors. Mr. LeFrancois had helped me in a simple but profound way. Like he did with my brother, it started with a simple statement. "You should get a job." The way he said it was so matter of fact yet he said it as if he was a peer rather than as an authority figure.  I am grateful to him for pushing me in that direction. 

Finally, fast forward to 2013-14. My dear old dad and Mr. L used to go to breakfast once a week when Dick was in town. Dick would come over, pick up my dad and take them to a local breakfast place. In those later years, my Dad was suffering from dementia. After a while, my Dad found it impossible to find the words to speak. He mostly knew what was going on but could not express himself. He gradually deteriorated. But Mr. L kept coming to pick him up and take him to breakfast. One day, my Mom said to Dick, "How can you stand sitting there with him? He doesn't ever say anything." Again, it was one sentence or two that was profound. Mr L simply replied to my mom, "I don't mind. He's my friend." 

What a beautiful thing to say from a truly caring and giving man. We will all miss Mr. LeFrancois. He touched so many lives in his large extended family and all across the country. 

If there is a soccer field in heaven, I know you are gearing up for the mowing season. You were a truly loving person. May you rest in peace. 

For more about Mr L. see below.  

http://www.moneyandking.com/_mgxroot/page_10780.php?id=1707066