A Quote by Jeff Merkley

I grew up in Southern Oregon. My father was a sawmill worker and a logger, and his job put food on the table. — © Jeff Merkley
I grew up in Southern Oregon. My father was a sawmill worker and a logger, and his job put food on the table.
My father was a logger. He cut timber and hauled it out of the woods and had a sawmill. They sawed it into lumber. And, you know, the mines needed things they call timbers and collars and so forth, and they used collars on the railroad track that they put the rails on. And he - that was his occupation, just a sawmill man and a logger.
I grew up with fantastic Southern food. In Southern California.
In high school the very first job I got was I worked as a cashier in Burgerville, which is this fast food place in Oregon. I kind of grew up to be a spoiled little kid so my dad was like, 'You're going to get a job for the summer!' I was this clueless immigrant like, 'May I take your order? Sorry sir, I don't know what I'm doing!'
My father had a lot of allergies, and he just didn't like the cold of Chicago, and his father - his parents had broken up when he was young, and his father had lived in Pasadena for a while, and he kind of fell in love with Southern California.
When we came to this country, unfortunately, my father lost his job, and we were this close to destitution. We were put on food stamps. We were put in public housing.
There is nothing a worker resents more than to see some man taking his job. A factory can be closed down, its chimneys smokeless, waiting for the worker to come back to his job, and all will be peaceful. But the moment workers are imported, and the striker sees his own place usurped, there is bound to be trouble.
Do not make the mistake...of thinking that a worker is a slave and that he holds his job by his employer's permission. He does not hold it by permission - but by contract, that is, by a voluntary mutual agreement. A worker can quit his job; a slave cannot.
It's my job. It's not a hobby, it's how I put food on the table for my family. I have to be on a bike.
I'm every father. I'm not only a black father. I'm a white father. I'm a Chinese father. I'm a Mexican father. I'm all fathers that want their sons out of the house and stop eating up all the food. Get a job, please. Stop looking at the TV.
The core cuisine of Southern food is established in the plantation South, within the world of slavery. To understand the plantation table, we must understand the relationship of enslaved people to Africa, to historical trauma, and their central role in food production. Their voice is the most poignant, expressive voice in Southern cuisine.
Southern food that appears in contemporary popular culture is so exaggerated that it's hardly recognizable to most Southerners. This enriching of Southern food - fatter, richer, more over the top - is what we typically see on TV, in Hollywood films, and in Southern-style or country-themed chains like Cracker Barrel. Southern food becomes a caricature, like characters and props in a reality TV show.
My father was a tea planter and I grew up in different parts of Assam as his job took him there.
I grew up in Oregon, where as a teenager I worked with my grandfather Axel on his i shing boat at the mouth of the Columbia River.
The high-profile fights are what matter to me because I have a family to take care of. That's how I put food on the table. That's my job.
Sir Walter, being strangely surprised and put out of his countenance at so great a table, gives his son a damned blow over the face. His son, as rude as he was, would not strike his father, but strikes over the face the gentleman that sat next to him and said, "Box about: twill come to my father anon."
I grew up in the Southern Baptist Church, where my father was a minister at music, so I sang in the church all the time.
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