Took Courage

I ALWAYS THOUGHT my father was a brave man. It wasn’t just because he served in World War II. It had to do with a few incidents that I witnessed.

I’ll never forget when my dad and I went to McDonald's for a late evening meal. I was probably in the eighth grade. I believe my mother was working late that night. It must have been a Friday because a lot of teenagers were hanging out in the parking lot.

It was the 1960s, when folks would often eat their food in their car. While we were consuming our burgers and fries, a fight broke out in the parking lot. I said to myself, “We should get out of here before things really get out of control.” But my father thought otherwise. We were going to finish our meal.

There were three teenagers in the car next to us. They started to get out of their vehicle to join the fight. My dad wasn’t a big man, and these three guys looked like they were big enough to be on the high school football team.

Still, my dad stuck his head out of the window and yelled, “Get back in your car.” Those guys looked at my dad, and slowly sat back down and shut the car doors. I don’t know what my dad would have done if they’d ignored him.

We stayed until order was restored. I always thought my dad was courageous that night. Today, some might say he was foolish.

But what might have been even more courageous was when my father accepted a job in California. In summer 1961, when we lived in Canton, Ohio, my dad answered a help wanted ad in the local newspaper. It was for a job as a machinist in Los Angeles. At the time, Southern California companies were looking for skilled labor.

He was offered the job after a telephone interview. Although the company paid all our travel expenses, I often thought it took courage for my father to uproot his family, head to a faraway place he’d never seen, and leave his job to work for a company he knew little about.

We drove our 1956 Ford Fairlane on a long, hot and humid journey across the country in hopes of a better life. I remember it was so hot in Arizona we had to hang a bag full of ice over the radiator to keep the car from overheating.

The company paid for our stay at a motel in Culver City. My dad would go to work during the day at a machine shop that did work for aerospace companies. My mother, sister and I hung around the motel, waiting for him to return. After a few days, it was clear California would be our new home, so my mother, sister and I took a train back to Canton to sell the house and most of our belongings. My parents’ Ohio starter home sold for $10,000.

As a 10-year-old, I didn’t realize that this cross-country trip was the start of my own journey to financial freedom. We weren’t just driving that Ford Fairlane to Los Angeles so my parents could find steady employment. We were also going to a place where my sister and I would find more economic opportunities.

When I graduated college, there were still plenty of job opportunities with major aerospace companies in the area. I went on to enjoy a fulfilling career in the aerospace industry, and I owe much of my success to my parents and that old Ford that took us to a land of opportunity.

Now that I’m retired, I sometimes think that my wife and I should take that cross-country trip in the other direction, in hopes of finding a better retirement. The cost of living is much cheaper in other parts of the country. In California, gasoline is more expensive and food prices are higher, plus our insurance premiums went up sharply this year.

We could sell our house and buy a nice home in the Midwest or the South, and still have money left over. But I think deciding where to live in retirement should involve more than money. I believe we have a better chance to live a longer and healthier life if we stay in Southern California.

We can have a more active lifestyle because the weather is milder here. We can walk, run, hike, bike, golf and work in our garden all year round. The summers can be hot, but not humid. There’s also less risk of falling down and breaking a hip during the winter season.

When I was in college, I had a professor—an older gentleman. On the first day of class, he was telling the students about himself. He said he recently moved to California from Indiana. For the sake of his health, his doctor recommended that he move to a place where the climate was milder.

While he was telling us his story, he began rubbing the top of his bald head. He said, “Not only do I think my health is better, I think my hair is starting to grow back.”

I don't think my hair will grow back. But like that professor, I think my wife and I have a better chance of living a longer and healthier life if we stay put.

Dennis Friedman retired from Boeing Satellite Systems after a 30-year career in manufacturing. Born in Ohio, Dennis is a California transplant with a bachelor's degree in history and an MBA. A self-described "humble investor," he likes reading historical novels and about personal finance. Check out his earlier articles and follow him on X @DMFrie.

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