"Welcome to your Greater Hollywood Family YMCA. "How can I help you?" barked the old man behind the desk as I wandered aimlessly yet towards the membership desk.
A few moments later, could have been longer, the old man came out from behind the desk, "Young man, can I help you?" with a little more authoritative pitch yet still in his own right cheerful.
"What, are you talking to me?" I said with my voice probably pitching high,like a boy’s voice transitioning to a young man.
"Pardon me, were you talking to me?" correcting my words, the old man corrected me and continued, "Show some respect for the language." "Yes, I'm talking to you." Extending a handshake, "Bill Claxton here, people call me Mr Bill."
In my timid voice responded, "I’m Robert Kovacs."
"If you want to be heard, speak up proudly son!" exclaimed the old man, Mr Bill and asked what brought me to the YMCA.
After giving Mr Bill an highly abbreviated, without much detail of what brought me in here was a teacher who felt it would be better for me to volunteer after school at the YMCA then hang out with my current clique of friends. Mr Bill proceeded to give me a tour of the facility though I knew it well from coming here twice a week in the evenings for karate class but I let him have him take center stage. On the way back, I was introduced and left with Steve the Youth Services Director who gave me the sixty second hurriedly interview and overview of what I can and cannot do with the children. I was already working as a bagboy at Publix, the local grocery store on Friday and Saturdays (another story – short, yet, another life) and wasn't really looking for another job. By the time Publix and I parted ways shortly after meeting with Steve, I was offered a job at the YMCA making more per hour and had ability to work five more hours a week and worked no nights and rarely on a Saturday! Life was good! My first day of employment was Monday, July 2, 1984 – wow! did I just say that – seems like only yesterday.
By the time I parted the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, I have already achieved quite a few significant milestones of my nearly six year tenure which seemed like a lifetime for most my age. To achieve full time employee status was considered an achievement in itself for the YMCA was a small, cash strapped non profit relying heavily on part time employees and many program volunteers. When we opened the indoor pool in the mid 1980s, I became one of the first certified swim instructors and lifeguards. Prior to my departure, I also implemented a half day pre-school enrichment program and a Mom’s morning out and parent/child enrichment classes. I managed to become an interim executive director when there was no one else willing to step up or rather didn’t want the responsibility, I guess being young, naive and being one of a few full-time employees remaining, I held down the operations for about three very challenging months. I was fortunate to work with very passionate volunteer policy leaders who helped guide and mentor me. Much of these skills learned, helped me become well prepared for the many other roles I had over the years. Throughout my tenure at the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, Mr Bill was at the time, one of my biggest cheerleaders and encouraged me to strive for the best I can be.
Little did I know, that my next job landed me at a brand new YMCA in Weston after a very brief stunt (one month) with a city program which clashed with my programming models I learned within the YMCA. My career with the YMCA of Broward County launched in February 1990 as the school-age child care coordinator and summer camp director. Prior to the merger of the YMCA of Broward County and the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, I was probably looked as a traitor as I was able to play in both service areas of the YMCA and was respected by both associations for my contributions to both. I often went back to take a swim, catch up with Mr Bill and others and often collaborated with their child care department to have “Back to School” and “Ready for Summer Camp” trainings integrating both YMCA associations.
Just as the 2006 summer programs were ready to launch, I was notified Mr Bill is set to “retire” and move back to Kansas City to live with his son. A celebration of his decades of volunteering was held at the YMCA he so loved. Elected officials, community leaders, past participants and YMCA employees and many others came out to celebrate Mr Bill. I took a few minutes to thank and honor Mr Bill for being the first face I saw twenty-two years earlier and was in awe how many were in attendance and personally wanted to take time to share their memories of how Mr Bill impacted their lives. As Mr Bill shared with me many years earlier, “As long as you’re green, you’re growing. As soon as you’re ripe, you start to rot.” In his 80s, I am sure Mr Bill still had a lot of green in him. But the time came to wish him well, like a well loved book loaned from a library, the YMCA returned Mr Bill to his family and those of us who were fortunate to know him, where blessed with cherished memories. I will always remember Mr Bill for not the first impression he placed on my soul that first day in 1984, but his legacy, love for our great organization and his ability to impart his wisdom on to me.
I may have never learned the rules of the game of basketball or took a liking to the sport, like Mr Bill, but the life skills of giving your all and giving back to the youth of your community were what became part of my character. The dividends of the countless youth who still recognize me when I go about living my life in the same community where I got my career start is priceless. I can only hope when I retire, I'll leave quietly as I came, with my own footprints of a road well traveled and hope I become yesterday's foundation for tomorrow's new leader, as the future is renewed yet for another generation and I can leave while still mostly green with maybe a shade of red on the side not always seen by others.
This is very relatable for someone that also started at the Y with a little anxiety, not quite knowing what was next.
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