Not My Photo
At age 15, I found employment. That is to say, employment found me. Some friends and I stopped at Angelone's Pizza in Westbrook on a Friday night to have what I believe were 90 cent, cheese pizzas. This was in 1977, and Angelone's was (and still is) an institution in Westbrook, Maine.
We finished our pies and started talking to the person serving us. This led to asking about possible employment. The woman behind the counter was very gracious, and handed us all applications. We filled them out, and I didn't give it much thought after that. Being 15, I was not necessarily enthusiastic about entering the work force.
The following Monday, I got a phone call from Angelone's for an interview. I put on some nice clothes and walked down to Main Street and met Julie Angelone, the manager of that store. She hired me on the spot, provided I went to City Hall and got a work permit. City Hall was just a couple of doors down from Angelone's then, so I got the worker's permit. If memory serves me correctly, this included a phone call to my parents for permission to apply for the permit. Things were different back then. I'm sure a signature landed on the form eventually.
Looking at the current (2018) Maine Child labor laws, it appears to run in conflict with what I remember about attaining a worker's permit. My research does not reveal what the standards were for fifteen year-old students seeking employment back in 1977. I do not remember my school system being involved with signing my workers permit, but today's standards require school and state involvement. Additionally, I worked more than the current three hour limit during school days. I'm thinking those worker's permits and hours limits have changed since I was a kid.
But back to the story . . .
I started at Angelone's soon after this interaction. My shifts were usually Fridays from 4:00-9:00, and/or Sundays from 4:00-8:00. Angelone's has always closed early for a pizza place. Of course, that wouldn't have mattered for a 15 year-old, as my hours were limited because of my status.
My first day there. I met Mr. Angelone.
Jack Angelone had a business model that included revamping old gas stations. He figured the sites were well traveled, and worth the investment. Jack also had another aspect to his business model. Give the customer fast, friendly service, and quality pizza that will keep people coming back for more. And always, ALWAYS, pay the customer respect and gratitude for coming through the door.
Jack had a bigger than life personality. I remember him as perpetually happy. Jack loved to sing (even if his audience did not appreciate his attempts at song), and he greeted most customers by name. I found this latter character trait amazing, as Jack had four or five stores during the 70's. I imagined him having the same routine at every store. Why would he be any different than how I saw him?
In short, he was an absolute joy to be around! And this is saying a lot for a fifteen year-old who had a generally distrustful opinion of the majority of adults in my life. I was so into this job, that I would answer our home phone with "Angelone's Westbrook. How may I help you?"
Jack taught me most of the business, piece by piece. However, the spice ingredients to the sauce and dough recipe were top secret! Only Mr Angelone and his kids new the particulars. I would assemble sauce, but there were cups of pre-measured spices set out for me by Jack.
His daughter, Julie, worked the Westbrook store, and reinforced all that he gave to the business. I liked working with Julie as well. Though my immediate supervisor, she had a way of making her employees feel like co-workers. In retrospect, this was clearly the model of their family run business.
When Jack (Whom I always called Mr Angelone) was in the store, I became his student. Monsieur Blanchard! Comment allez-vous? He would bellow at me in the loudest and most friendly way possible. I would usually blush and repeat that I did not speak French. This would only encourage Mr. Angelone to continue. Parlez-vous français monsieur Blanchard? he would say, as he heartily patted me on the back and said what a nice young man I was. Then he would go and run the numbers, check inventory, and generally inspect the cleanliness and overall condition of the store. I saw him do this every day that I was there.
I would ring up a customer, and Jack would be behind the ovens rolling dough. After a customer left, Jack would call for me to come and help him. He always stressed safety, and repeated how to operate the machine in a safe manner. I'd feed the dough into the rolling machine at his instruction. He would offer praise and jokes as we worked together.
Then Mr. Angelone would turn off the machine. He would explain what the customer meant to the business. He told me they bring in money, and that every paying customer contributed a percentage of their purchase to my paycheck. He would remind me of the importance of saying "Thank you." and using terms of respect toward the customers. Words like, "yeah" and "uh-huh" were not appropriate customer greetings. Mr. Angelone would then thank me for being one of his most reliable employees.
I remember being impressed with not only what he was telling me, but the way he told me. He never gave me feedback at the register, or in front of a customer. On occasion, he might gently interrupt and send me off on some sort of non-customer related errand while he finished a transaction. But Mr. Angelone never dressed me down in front of a customer. And because of that, he had my undivided attention when he gave me instructions on how to treat customers when they came in the store.
Now, I was in High School after all. And there were times that I needed to be "supervised" by both Julie and Mr. Angelone. But not once did I feel disrespected by them. You see, I now realize that they treated their work force just like their customers; as a resource. The treated me in such a way that I wanted to do well for them. They held a very high standard of customer service, and coaxed me into doing what was needed to make the business run well and attract customers. They taught me that the customer expects a clean, well-run, and friendly atmosphere. And that the customer is paying for these expectations. That's what keeps customers coming back, and ultimately, my weekly paycheck coming in.
And they also taught me personal accountability.
I did not work for Angelone's during my senior year of high school. I was focused on swimming, and graduation. I also was a lifeguard and swimming instructor at the Portland YMCA. Just before Christmas, I got a call from Julie Angelone. She asked me to stop by the store. Of course, I made arrangements to get there as soon as possible.
Julie sat me down and explained to me that I had been underpaid due to an accounting error. She had the payroll books and related documents for my inspection. She showed me the total of the underpayment and presented me with a check for two-hundred, seventy-eight dollars! But before she had me sign for it. She went over the book keeping with a calculator and pencil to ensure that the business was doing right by me.
After I had turned sixteen, I got a small raise for a job well done. But the raise was based on my student pay as a fifteen year-old as a worker's permit. I was owed an additional amount (can't remember how much it was) per hour, and Angelone's made sure I got my money . . . with interest.
I learned a lot from that first job. I learned how important customer service was. I learned to make sure that the work space was clean and welcoming to the customers. I learned how to treat my co-workers with respect and dignity, and I also learned about personal and professional accountability.
I wish I could say that I've always had these qualities on board in every job I've had since. But maturity has its own learning curve. There are jobs where I've modeled all that I learned at Angelone's Westbrook, and jobs that I have not done well.
However, I know that I can trace any merit raises, positive annual reviews, and overall job performance ratings back to the roots of what I learned from Angelone's Westbrook, and all the Angelone family gave me.
Over forty years later, Angelone's Westbrook is still one of my favorite pizza places. I go there sometimes, just to enjoy a pizza and read the news articles about Mr Angelone. And on occasion, I bore the staff with the "I used to work here." stories. But usually, I just sit and reflect on all that this little spot at 768 Maine Street in Westbrook gave to me. My hometown, and first job.
Recovery has a way of making room for these little treasures. Someone recently told me what an outstanding job I did with something at work, and I told them about Mr. Angelone.
Thanks Jack
