Why Am I and Other Seniors Being Punished for Getting Old?
Op-ed by TheWiseOldFart I began working in 1962, at the age of 16. The owner of a gas station across the street from my church hired me for one dollar an hour. I was scheduled to work 13 hours on Saturdays. No such thing as overtime. I pumped gas, checked the oil level, made sure the batteries were filled with fluid, washed windows, and made our customers feel welcome. Inside the bay I changed oil, lubricated the undercarriage of cars and trucks, and repaired tires. I was never without a job after that first day at the gas station, with the exception of time spent in the U.S. Air Force until I was let go in 2008 from my job in a warehouse as America experienced the “great recession.” I looked for work for a while, but at the age of 62, no one offered me a position. Then, early in 2009 I saw an ad seeking individuals to work in the 2010 decennial census. I won’t bore you with the details, but my time in the working world ended before the last two months of 2010 became history. I had wor