By Susan Cantrell
The first time I laid eyes on Dale Gingerich it was in my bedroom. Rest assured, he was a perfect gentleman. His gentle ways, smile crowned by glacier blue eyes and a halo of white hair, made me completely at ease as he and his assistant strained and twisted, trying to maneuver a huge wooden sleigh bed around my miniscule bedroom. In fact, they had put it together for me – far above and beyond the call of duty for two men delivering the mattress I had just purchased from Gingerich’s Monterey Mattress Company, which Dale has owned for 21 years.
I hadn’t seen him again until I recently negotiated with his son, Brian, vice president and co-founder, who had invited me to interview his father as part of a trade for a new bed.
It didn’t take much coaxing after I lay on a sumptuous latex mattress. My spring mattress was no longer desirable to me. I was spoiled for life.
Thus, I met Dale again while rolling around on beds in their showroom in Sand City. He hadn’t aged a whit. And his shy and dry sense of humor was still intact. I knew, however, that it would be like pulling teeth to coax a story out of this modest man, whose Iowan roots grow long and deep.
When the day came, sunshine was aplenty and the Carmel home he shares with his wife, Ruth, was pretty as a picture framed by flowers. I could see that the sure hand of a carpenter had recently updated the wooden abode.
Dale ushered me in and admitted that he had knocked out walls, built the white craftsman-style cabinetry in the kitchen and a multitude of other upgrades.
“I’m a doer by nature,” he said, smiling. “I’ve been accused of being a workaholic.” In fact, he had barely made it to the interview on time, citing a broken sewing machine, a truck full of mattresses to unload and a stream of phone calls. At 72, he’s still working overtime. “It would be nice to get down to a 40 hour week.”
Somehow, I suspected he wouldn’t know what to do with something called retirement. We sat at the dining table, wind chimes tinkling outside, Dale in a plaid blue shirt and Navy cotton pants. I was pleased at his responsiveness to my questions. He was, indeed, willing to open his mental closets. Farmer, carpenter, and entrepreneur; as his life story unraveled, it was clear that he puts his whole heart into every one of his endeavors.
P.S. Dale confessed that the worst thing about aging is that he now has glaucoma. I left his home humming a Dan Fogelberg song (about a young man, whom I imagined to be Dale’s songwriter/record producer son, Brian) whose cabinet maker father is aging and his eyes are growing dim. But to him, his father will always be the leader of the band.
When I look into Brian’s face, I see this adoration for his father. The only change one might make to the song is that “pops,” as Brian calls him, seems a long way from laying down his tools. His eyes still sparkle with the boyish joy of a traveler who intends to experience the four corners of the world – once he can cut down to a 40-hour work
week . . .
Written by Susan Cantrell - About the Author
Susan Cantrell has interviewed several thousand people throughout her two-decade, award-winning journalistic career writing for local and national newspapers and magazines. For seven years she wrote the weekly column “Quotable Notables,” for The Monterey County Herald newspaper, upon which her book is based. She now writes “Quotable Notables” for Carmel Magazine.
Her signature - according to editors, readers and interview subjects - is offbeat and thought-provoking questions that have inspired revealing answers from such celebrities as: Clint and Dina Ruiz Eastwood, Kevin Costner, Jay Leno, Joan Fontaine, Olympia Dukakis, Suzanne Somers, Doris Day, Ted Turner, Glen Campbell, Willie Nelson, Brooke Shields, John Denver, The Smothers Brothers, Olivia Newton-John and many more. She lives in Pacific Grove, California where the ocean is her muse.