Twenty years later, I was working for a big company and was transferred from Tacoma to Sacramento. There was a problem with me not being licensed for insurance in California which resulted in me having what amounted to paid leave for two months. In those days I was much too restless to sit around getting in my wife’s way or just go fishing foe eight weeks, so I checked out the help wanted ads in the Sacramento Beer to see if there was anything I could sell as an independent agent.

   The Encyclopedia Britannica was advertising for sales reps.  Steve McQueen had sold encyclopedias. When I made an appointment over the phone with the manager, whose name was Mark Smith, I knew right away from his voice that he was from Hartford. When I met him at his office he looked like Hartford, born and bred. He was of medium height, with a lanky build that made him look taller, and he had the square granite head of the old Connecticut Yankees. His black hair was a little bit long and his wide mustache was neatly trimmed. I was straight with him about my situation and he said he would hire me on the chance that in two months I’d be making so much money and enjoying the work so much that I wouldn’t want to go back to my old job.

   Mark wasn’t just selling books, it turned out. In the days before the Internet was on a mission to get an encyclopedia into every family’s home. Besides me, there were five other salesmen and one woman. This group looked up to Mark and had a tremendous affection for him. We got our leads from ads in Parade magazine where Lucille Ball offered a little bookrack free to anyone who would sit through a sales presentation.