Ira Hawkins held the same job for 55 years, and still didn’t want to leave.
Bill Plaschke tells a story in today’s Los Angeles Times. It’s the story of a man, an ordinary man. A man who, by all accounts, did nothing more than do his job—a job he loved—for most of his life.
Ira Hawkins had been an user at Dodger Stadium for 55 years, ever since the stadium opened its doors on April 18th for the first Dodger game in Los Angeles. His attire changed slightly over the years—from straw hats and ties to polo shirts and khakis—but not much else did. During homestands, Ira would eat the same meal almost every day at Subway—a footlong turkey sandwich on wheat with tomato, lettuce and olives. “He would carefully cut the sandwich into four parts and eat one for breakfast, one for lunch, one for a snack, and one for dinner.” His job consisted of directing traffic, finding lost kids, showing the way to bathrooms. He had open-heart surgery when he was 88 and still finished the season.
“And he always had a story to tell; about an old ballplayer or some great game,” said James Harvey, another fellow usher. “You could not walk past him without stopping to hear a story.”
I love this story. Ira was happy. He made people happy. He did what mattered to him with passion and commitment and joy and enthusiasm. He lived the life he wanted and called fulfillment on his own terms.
That is success, no question in my mind.
He also saw more live Dodger games in person than I ever will. I don’t envy his meal regimen, but oh those stories. What I wouldn’t give for a book of those stories!