I knew my grandpa was an HVAC technician, and I knew he was the owner of the local HVAC company.
My father had worked for him for years.
It isn’t like anyone had forced me to be an HVAC technician, but I wanted to be one. Once I graduated from high school, I signed up for HVAC classes at the local community college. I was excited to start classes, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew dad sometimes worked as an instructor, but he hadn’t been saying anything to mom about it. I had previously talked to dad about being an HVAC technician, and he told me it was my decision. It was my life, and if I wanted to be an HVAC technician, doctor, or burger flipper; it was my choice and not his. I appreciated my dad wanting me to follow my own path in life, but I wanted a little bit of guidance, and I was trying to find out if he knew who the instructor was. Dad was saying nothing. I guessed I had to wait until the class started. Two weeks later, I walked into class. I almost laughed out loud when my grandpa walked into class and sat down on the desk. He introduced himself as this year’s guest instructor, and he was going to be doing all the classroom instruction. My father was going to be doing the hands-on instruction. I was beginning to wonder how I was going to get through the introductions without anyone knowing I was related to these two guys. I also wondered how many of my classmates would think I would get special treatment.