When I was interviewing for my current job, I was walking down the hall of the office area and I saw someone that I knew. I saw Mark King, who is from my home county and several years younger than me. I didn’t know Mark that well, but I recognized him, and we spoke. It was nice to see a familiar face at the job interview. Although I didn’t know it at the time, Mark was a Technician in the quality department. I was interviewing for a position as a Quality Engineer so we would end up working together.
Soon I accepted an offer to start working there at Delta Faucet. Before I started working there, the Quality Manager made an announcement in a Quality team meeting that I would be their new Quality Engineer. Mark was excited that I would be getting the job. He closed his eyes and started pumping his fists up in the air in celebration, quietly saying “Yes!” Some of the other Quality team members saw him celebrating and asked, “Is he your cousin?” Mark continued his celebration and didn’t realize that anyone was asking him a question. The team members thought he was answering their question. So they thought that Mark and I were cousins.
It should be noted at this point that Mark is black and I am white. While we may have common ancestors somewhere along the line, they would be so far back in the family trees that we wouldn’t know who they are. So, when I showed up on my first day of work in the quality lab, the people there were expecting a black man. When I said, “I’m Art Wheeler”, there was a look of shock on most of their faces. One of the technicians told another one to “Go get Billy!” It turns out that Billy was another black man that worked in the quality department. They knew he would want to see Mark’s white cousin. Soon we would sort out the mistake and have a good laugh. But I still refer to Mark as my cousin.
Follow-up Story:
A few years later, our Quality Department was having a fundraiser for someone in our group who had some excessive medical expenses. We were grilling burgers, and someone decided that I needed to go to Sam’s Club and get some onions. I am not a member of Sam’s Club, but Mark King is. So, Mark gave me his Sam’s Club photo ID so I could go there and buy onions. There were never any questions about me being there. I showed them the ID on the way in. When I was checking out, they took the ID and placed it on the cash register keyboard while they checked me out. When we completed the transaction, the store employee handed me the ID and said, “Thank you Mr. King!”