Daily Archives: August 11, 2019

JNEWS: Hughes, Karl [MC1978] “Hammering Out a Living.”


Dear John,

I believe that Karl is a member of the Class of 1978.


McEneney, Mike (MC1953)

[JR: Thanks, Mike. Much appreciated.]

Hughes, Karl [MC1978]

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Helping others find a job that fits like a glove
By Daniel Jackovino on August 9, 2019

BLOOMFIELD, NJ — Bloomfield resident Karl Hughes has a few aha! moments for you, if you have a minute. A sixth-generation carpenter, the Bronx-born Hughes, 62, has spent 45 years in the trade and more than half of that time was spent thinking about writing a self-help guide, which he says will be beneficial to anyone, but especially blue collar workers. Published by THiNKaha, the guide is titled “Hammering Out a Living.”
“It’s been a work in progress for 25 years,” Hughes said recently during an interview in his Mohr Avenue home. “But believe it or not, I just started working on it in February.”
The book has an unusual format. It is essentially a compilation of 140 quotes and hashtags divided into seven sections, with headings such as “Choosing Your Path,” “Reputation Matters” and “The Importance of Values.”
For instance, in Section II: “Good Morning,” there is quote No. 19: “An affirmation is a belief put into words and repeated to yourself with conviction. Affirmations are a great way to begin your day.” And quote No. 24: “A positive outlook is essential for achieving a #SuccessfulLife, for without it, you will lose heart and become discouraged. #Affirmations #Carpenters.”
Hughes attended Manhattan College for fine arts and communications but preferred carpentry and its better wages. He remains a reader but said the thinks most blue collar workers are not big readers. He also said that there is a tremendous need for blue collar workers and believes that brief quotes that act as career road signs and inspirational thoughts are a way to reach them.

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POSITRACTION: Find the light and follow it



When I Was Alone at the Hospital at 4AM, a Lyft Driver Restored My Faith in Humanity
By Sterling Bindel-Jan 21, 2019

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It was three days after New Years and I hadn’t slept since the ball dropped. I paced my house in a manic state, desperately closing my eyes, hoping rest would find me – but it never did.

Like it always does when I’m sleep-deprived, my epilepsy began rearing its ugly head. My brain felt like a nest of old computer wires tangled together, periodically shocking me with electricity. My body shook violently but there was nothing to be done, making sleep even more impossible.

I knew I had to do something; I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but I couldn’t fix this myself. I had exhausted my resources. My toolbox of solutions was empty. I decided to go to the hospital around 1AM. My roommate drove me. He let me out at the sliding doors of the ER and then headed back home.

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I was discharged around 4:30AM. Alone and feeling vulnerable in the middle of the night, I was outside of an ER that was thirty minutes away from my home in Richmond, Virginia. I called a Lyft to pick me up and hoped against hope that it would be someone kind, someone safe.

A small SUV pulled up in front of the hospital doors and I climbed in, expecting some awkward small talk. After all, it was 4:30AM and I was being picked up from a hospital by a complete stranger. I buckled my seatbelt, and then the driver turned around; she was a woman in her mid-forties with the kindest eyes and a box of Christmas peppermints waiting on the seat beside me.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just have epilepsy so I can’t drive.” I replied, expecting her to shrug it off and hit the road. Instead, she began to tell me about her daughter’s recent epilepsy diagnosis. She said she understood my struggle of being sick and unable to drive; needing food to stay healthy, living on my own, but not being able to drive to the grocery store; the unique riddle of needing help, but not knowing how to ask. She continued to talk about her daughter and I could tell it weighed on her heavily, watching someone she loves struggle to fill the fridge.

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But then the next day, she called me, knowing I needed food but sensing that I didn’t want to impose – and we went to the grocery store that afternoon.

She not only provided safety and helped me fill my cupboards, but she gave me something I thought I had lost: she gave me hope. It was just a little taste, but it’s carried me through a lot, and these little glimmers of light can be so bright in the dark – and now I know that when the nights seem dark, my best choice is to find the light and follow it.

Editor’s note: one week after GNN published her story, Sterling received a text from Kathy saying that the article had inspired Lyft Inc. to donate $500 to the Epilepsy Foundation in their honor. Furthermore, Sterling was gifted $150 in Lyft credit to help her with transportation.

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Yes, there are good and caring people out there.

Everyone has their own set of problems.  

This story makes me believe I should be alert to solve one of them.

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