More Than A Passing Grade

Take pride in this industry that saw us through some of our darkest hours

By Ron Ciancutti

My dad worked as a metallurgist with Ford Motor Company for 42 years. His dad worked at ALCOA Steel in Pennsylvania for 35 years. When I graduated from college, Ford was waiting for me to interview for a factory line supervisor job. I took some tests, had a series of interviews, and was pretty much assured I was “in” as soon as all the paperwork was complete.

Photo: © Can Stock Photo / dobled

Dad always smiled when he waved to me through his office door as I was leaving the interview sessions. It was the way things were 40-plus years ago. The kid got the education, the old man got him the interview, and one, two, three, “sonny” joined the ranks of the industrial revolution.

A Calling Difficult To Ignore

But as I made my way to my car, one of the interviewers exited the building and flagged me down. As he approached, he said, “Ronnie, you’re a bright young man, and I know you’ll do a heck of a job for Ford. I also know you think you’ll work a couple years, put some money in the bank, and go do what you would really like to do … but you won’t. Once you start making that money, you will never leave, and I heard you mention the outdoors in many of your answers today. I think you really want a career in that up-and-coming industry.” I was breathless. First, I was so relieved someone had heard more than just my rehearsed answers, and second, I had never heard parks and rec referred to as an “industry” before. He walked me back inside the factory and told me to look up. It was so dark and vast that I truly could not see the ceiling. “Remember those crystal-blue skies you were telling me about? Imagine seeing this ’sky’ for the next 40 years. I just want to urge you to take the weekend and really think about how you want the next 40 years to look.” I began to realize the “calling” to work in the parks and rec industry was, indeed, just that. It was something very personal and something filled with integrity. Life choices were getting clearer.

I had already been offered a research job with the planning department of the park district, and I recall clearly that that offer was financially about a quarter of Ford’s compensation (plus Ford’s overtime opportunities were enormous). I knew what I wanted and was too young to really conceive of the impact of the dollar difference (still living with Mom and Dad), so I mustered up the courage and told Dad I was going to take my talents to the park system. He nodded, shrugged, and smiled. He gave me total support, but I knew he was disappointed. In the years that followed, I made a steady climb in the park district while the job I would have had at Ford endured layoffs and downsizing over and over. In fact, most—if not all—of my friends suffered economic tidal waves through the 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, and beyond. Each and every time, my buoyant park job weathered the storm and kept me steadily employed. A few years after starting with the park system, my dad put his arm around me while shaking his head and said, “How did you know?” I told him I was just following my heart. Later that evening, I put a down payment on my first house.

An Industry Is Born

Clearly the industrial revolution was ending. Factories were closing while restaurants, amusement parks, golf courses, swimming pools, and parks were proliferating. The service industries were becoming the backbone of the economy, and I was in a leadership role with the greatest leisure service in the country. Parks and rec had made its mark, and the citizens of this great nation were clearly telling their political leadership to preserve the land, carve out more greenspace, and add facilities that respected the outdoors and provided endless opportunities to enjoy their free time.

In those years, we, as an industry, weathered many storms, both physically and spiritually. There were challenges, incredible budget cuts, and political misunderstandings that pulled on us like an undertow. Some of us dealt with overwhelming weather from tornadoes to tsunamis. I recall storms that took out entire cities, but the industry kept coming back. Sometimes neighbors rebuilt playgrounds. Locals sandbagged beaches to create levies. Countless news reports showed park and rec enthusiasts navigating waterways that were streets only hours before to rescue people from floods, fires, and tall buildings. There were incredible acts of heroism from athletic weekend warriors.

Tested To The Limits

In the last few months, because of COVID-19, parks and rec officials and employees have been challenged beyond their wildest imaginations to offer “versions” of outdoor experiences while being strapped to the confinement of computers, homesteads, retirement homes, and hospitals.

And look what we did! Drive-through zoos. Virtual nature walks. Bird watching from a camera mounted on a lone naturalist in the woods. Websites loaded with every possible form of nature video showing how curators feed, groom, and maintain animals. Staff members going full automation and maintaining budgets and services from networked computer systems and multi-window meetings. The response was incredible. There were ingenious solutions to problems popping up left and right and diligence in navigating the payroll and tax rules to keep staff members and see that everyone continued to be paid.

Folks, the leisure industry is no peripheral service anymore. We also are not marginal in what we provide. I noticed that, at the peak of the virus outbreak, there were more people hiking and biking and power-walking than I’d ever seen before. It was this industry that carried the ball and shouldered the burdens of keeping people sane. Personally, recreation became a mandatory outlet for my family, and the only way to release any of this pent-up tension was to lace up those sneakers and get outside.

Hats Off To You

I am endlessly proud of the local park and rec industries that saw us through this difficult time, and I take my hat off to them, acknowledging that we probably couldn’t have come through it all so well without them. And, just like we would have never enjoyed the taste of Tang had man not gone into space, the things we created/learned during the COVID-19 crisis are just beginning to be retrofitted and appreciated. We will not only survive this crisis but we will thrive because of it. The steps we took in days might have taken years without the push of necessity, the absolute mother of invention.

Stay strong, brothers and sisters. The colors that were shone in this “experiment” testify to the strength and durability of an absolutely indispensable industry in our lifetime. We have come far.

Ron Ciancutti worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He is now retired. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.